Can I Call in Dead?
by Moonfairyhime
Summary: AU, Character Death: Instead of Sam leaving for college, Dean did. And when Sam shows up on Dean's doorstep four years later, finding out that his brother is a psychic is the least of Dean's problems.
1. How to be Dead

Title: How to be Dead Series: Can I Call in Dead?  
Author: Moonfairyhime  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: I don't own the lovely Winchester boys.  
Summary: Instead of Sam leaving for college, Dean did. And when Sam shows up on Dean's doorstep four years later, finding out that his brother is a psychic is the least of Dean's problems.  
Notes: This is an AU fic, in which Dean leaves for school and Sam is left with John. However, Sam has developed his "gifts" a few years earlier. Please keep in mind that this is not the normal Sam you're used to—this is a bitter Sam who is completely resigned to his fate. Many, many thanks to kashmir1 for her beta-ing and all the support she gave for this fic and thank you to okibibanshi for beta-ing in a fandom she doesn't actively participate in. Slightly Wincest-y (of the Dean/Sam variety) if you tilt your head sideways and screw with your eyes… or so I've been told. If I get enough positive feedback, I am interested in turning this into a series, which is why some questions remain unanswered in this story. Title taken from a song by Snow Patrol and series name from the old adage "I used up all my sick days… Can I call in dead?" **This is the edited version. If you want the un-edited version, e-mail me.** Basically, I just cut out almost all of the swearing so I could post it here. For some reason, I can't get the line break thing to work, so you'll be seeing the title of the fic in between scene breaks. Oh, and warning, character death.

**How to be Dead**

"Sam?" Dean wasn't sure who he was expecting to be at his door at one in the afternoon, but he was pretty sure his little brother was nowhere near the top of the list.

Sam smiled tiredly at Dean. "Hey, big bro. Have you heard from Dad lately?"

"Sammy, you know I haven't talked to Dad since I walked. Besides, shouldn't he be with you?"

"We were on separate hunts." Sam shrugged, as is this was an everyday occurrence.

"You were on your own hunt! What the hell, Sam? Why would Dad let you do that? What about school?"

An eerie light came into Sam's eyes. "Believe me, Dean; things should be afraid of me. Besides, I graduated last year."

Dean's eyes glowed with pride. "You graduated a year early, Sammy? Way to go."

"Yeah. I got accepted into Stanford. Dad found out and burned the letter. He said he lost one son; he was going to be damned before he lost another. He's already damned." Sam shook his head. "Anyhow, I was handling a simple possession and Dad had a rumor he was checking out. We were supposed to meet back at the motel, but he never showed. I waited half a day for him and kept calling him but no answer. I was hoping he showed up here, but I guess not. I better go then. See if he showed up while I was gone."

Dean reached out to grab Sam's arm, but an invisible force stopped him. Dean blinked at his hand, "What the hell?"

Sam winced. "Sorry about that. Then again, my instincts have saved me more times that I can count."

"And again, what the hell?"

"You've been gone for four years, Dean. Did you think Dad and I wouldn't change while you were gone? Of course, we never thought I'd change this much, but whatever." Sam shrugged. "I have to go. Have a great life, Dean… Was great to see you. See you again in four years."

Dean tried again and met the same force. "Sam, what happened to you? Did this happen to you because of hunting and Dad?"

Both Sam and Dean heard the unspoken 'Because I wasn't there?'

Sam smirked bitterly. Dean never wanted to see that expression on his brother again and watched as Sam opened the door without being near it. "Dean… Forget it. You weren't there when this all happened. I'm handling this fine."

Dean watched as Sam walked out the door. He then grabbed his phone number and dialed the number to his dad's cell phone, long remembered but never used. When it switched to voicemail, Dean hung up without leaving a message before dialing another number. "Pastor Jim? It's Dean. What is going on with my little brother?"

**How to be Dead**

Sam frowned as he opened the door and threw the Impala's keys on the dresser. Dad still wasn't back yet and the sun was going down. He carefully checked the entire the room for a sign that any living being had been it in while he was gone. His frown only deepened when he realized that the only thing his empathy was picking up was his emotions from earlier: slight bitterness with a hint of worry.

"Where are you Dad?" Sam asked aloud as he sat on the bed. Sam rubbed his hands over his face, feeling older than the eighteen years he actually was. Seeing Dean again was not in his plans, but Sam needed to find their dad. Sam's empathy became hard for him to control without a familiar presence to ground him-someone with familiar emotions that kept Sam from becoming lost in someone else's turmoil-every so often. Although Sam could easily control his telekinesis, the premonitions wrecked havoc with his mind whenever they felt like it. As for the empathy, Sam just wished that "gift" had an off switch. Most of the time, he could ignore what other people were feeling, but in a crowd…

Sam felt a familiar tug into darkness and eloquently summed up everything with two words:

"Well, _shit_."

**How to be Dead**

Even though Dean had a lab tomorrow he was supposed to be getting ready for, he kept replaying the conversation he had with Father Jim in his mind.

_"Dean? What can I help you with?" Although John had turned his back on his older son, Father Jim had never refused Dean._

_"Sam was here a little while ago. Jim, what has happened to my little brother? He moved stuff with his _mind_!"_

_Jim neatly sidestepped the question. "Why was Sam there?"_

_"He couldn't find Dad. Jim, you're not answering my question: what is wrong with Sam?"_

_Jim frowned, although Dean couldn't see it. "There's nothing_ wrong _with your brother. And the sooner you realize this, the better."_

_Dean heard a click and then the dial tone. Dean stared at his cell phone. "What is going on? I was only gone for four years."_

A loud banging noise on the door stopped Dean's thoughts. He got up to answer the door, fully ready to tell his friends he didn't want to go to a bar tonight. Once again, Dean was shocked to see his little brother. He was even more shocked to realize that unlike the composed Sam he saw earlier, this Sam seemed riled up and Dean could swear he saw his brother's left eye twitch. There was a slight wildness to Sam's eyes that almost frightened Dean.

"Sammy? What the hell?"

Sam reached out and touched Dean's arm. Dean blinked as some of the twitchiness left Sam. "Sammy, dude, why are you touching me?"

Sam withdrew his hand as if Dean's arm had suddenly turned to fire. The wildness left, only to be replaced by eyes that were almost dead. "Sorry. I told you: I'm empathetic. I need to ground myself on familiar emotions every now and then or I could get lost in other people's emotions. Although I haven't seen you in four years, your emotions haven't changed too drastically. Four years away can't change the fact that I knew you inside and out for fourteen years. Was a bit blindsided by you leaving, but that's a moot point."

Dean winced at Sam's bluntness. "Sam. You knew all the reasons why I left. I told you them."

"Dammit, Dean! You left me when I needed you the most. You left me in the middle of puberty. Take a good look at me, Dean." For the first time, Sam stood up to his full height and Dean was annoyed to find that Sam was three inches taller than him. "Tell me, Dean, how well do you think Dad took your leaving? You were perfectly trained and comfortable in your own body. I was a gawky teenager who grew three inches in a one-month period. I had to relearn how to shoot every gun, how to block every punch. And I didn't have to deal with just that type puberty. My "gift" decided to emerge right after my sixteenth birthday. Some kids get a car when they turn sixteen, well; I got the power to move a car."

Dean was slightly afraid when he realized that the furniture in his apartment was shaking. Sam smiled bitterly at him before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. The furniture stopped moving and Sam opened his eyes. "Do you know what it's like to be able to feel someone dying, Dean? I can't go into a hospital anymore. Last time Dad took me to one, I had broken my arm and collarbone after a poltergeist shoved me out of a second story window. He had to sneak me out in the middle of the night through the window because all I could feel was death and hopelessness. He had to stop me from committing suicide because I couldn't take it anymore. The telekinesis really isn't that bad, but I don't even want to talk about premonitions. Even though they're the reason I'm here."

Dean felt his blood stop cold. "What's wrong?"

"Dad was tracking down a rumor when we separated. The rumor was about a shaman in Catawba. Fifteen deaths have occurred recently in the town and no one knows the cause."

"Sam, what are you trying to imply?"

"I think that Dad's in trouble, Dean."

"Sammy, where was the motel you were staying at?"

"Some motel in Wabun."

Dean sighed. He got out of his life of hunting four years ago. He was free and never imagined that it would taste so sweet. Even though Sam said he was a lost cause, Dean was sure Sam was exaggerating in normal Sam fashion. "Sam, I'm sure Dad is fine. What do you want?"

Sam's eyes flashed angrily and for a minute, Dean was worried that things were going to start levitating again. Sam sensed Dean's fear and shook his head. "Were you not listening to me three minutes ago? I had a premonition. Dad is in trouble."

Dean blinked, not sure he was believing this. "Sam. Just say it. What do you want from me?"

"I want your help!"

Dean sighed again, this time louder. Sam actually growled at his older brother. "Oh, screw you, Dean. Forget I ever showed up here. Go back to earning your degree in mechanical engineering and your normal life. I'll go deal with Dad. I've been doing it for four years now. I don't even know why I came to you. You'd think, me being psychic and all, I'd know better. Goodbye, Dean."

Dean tried to grab Sam's arm, but was met with the same invisible resistance. "Sammy, wait. I'd go and help you, but I have a lab in the morning and it's worth half my grade for the semester and…"

Sam's eyes were cold. "Forget it, Dean. I'll handle it. Go to bed or whatever." Sam paused by the door, his head cocked. "Oh, by the way, whoever lives below you is about to have wild, kinky sex. Hope you have earplugs."

Dean paused and weighed his options: listening to someone have sex while studying for a lab or going with Sam. He missed his brother and knew that he had missed important pieces of his brother's life, but when he left for Virginia Tech, he stopped hunting. Still, Sammy wouldn't have come back unless something was really wrong…

In the end, duty to his little brother won out over duty to school. When you ignore something, it doesn't go away. It just lingers in the back of your mind until you're ready to deal with it.

**How to be Dead**

Sam was leaning against the Impala, sipping a cup of coffee. When Dean appeared in front of him and the car, Sam merely raised an eyebrow.

Dean stared at the Impala. "Dad lets you drive the Impala?"

Sam grinned at Dean and Dean was shocked to see a hint of the younger brother he remembered in the smile. "I told you that some kids get a car when they turn sixteen. I never said I didn't get a car."

"Dad didn't give me a car when I turned sixteen." Dean said, smiling at the Impala and his brother.

Sam ignored that statement. "Are you coming or not? I don't know how far into the future my vision was."

Dean sighed. "Sammy, I want to, but…"

"But what Dean? You were the one who told me that an education was worthless and that I should just give up the dream. You were the one who told me that hunting was the only life for the Winchesters."

"Sam, I left for you." Dean's voice was icy. "I left so that you could have a better life than hunting."

Sam's eyes narrowed and he swore. "Shit. Do me a favor and calm down. You're giving me a headache."

"_I'm_ giving _you _a headache! What the hell! I wasn't the one who appeared on your doorstop, out of the blue, asking for help! I'm not the one who is asking you to drop your normal life to go off and track down Dad!"

Sam brought his hand to his forehead and began to massage his temples. "Dean, you're not the one who's empathetic. You're so pissed I can feel it in my bones. Please, calm down. When I said I remembered your emotions, I don't know them well enough that they don't hurt."

Dean suddenly realized how pale his little brother was and all the anger flowed out of him. "Oh, Sammy… I'm sorry."

Sam sighed in relief. "Dean, in my vision, Dad was being attacked. By who or what, I don't know. I just have a feeling that I can't do this by myself. If you want to stay here, fine. I don't care. I'm going to sit in the Impala. If you want to come with me, pack a bag and meet me in the Impala in ten minutes. If not, I'm leaving without you. Either way, I'm going after Dad."

Ten minutes later, Dean was sitting shotgun in the Impala and Sam had Coldplay playing at a reasonable level. Dean stared at the radio like it had three heads. "Sammy, what is this?"

"It's my music. If you even think about touching the radio, I will break your fingers one by one and shove them down your throat."

"You can't do both at the same time."

"You can if you're me."

**How to be Dead**

Dean and Sam hadn't talked for thirty minutes and Dean was sick of whiny ass British emo rockers. He turned the radio off with a flick of his wrist. "So, Sam, what have you been doing for the past four years?"

As soon as Dean asked that question, he had to stop himself from hitting himself in the forehead. Luckily, Sam was there to do it for him. Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring the question. "What have you been doing? I thought you'd be living in your own private harem by now."

"Nah… I had a steady girlfriend, but we broke up last semester. I had a roommate this semester, but he transferred out to Penn State. Kind of nice having the apartment to myself, though." Dean appreciated having room to himself after sharing a motel bed with his brother for so long.

"So, you're like the cat lady minus the cats?"

"Shut up, Sam."

Dean waited five minutes before he tried to strike up a conversation again. "What did you see in your vision, Sam?"

"Oh, so now we're acknowledging that I'm psychic?"

"Sammy."

"Dad was walking down an alley. He was alone, but it didn't feel like he was alone. Felt like something was watching him. Everything felt off." Sam said, and there was a note of finality in Sam's voice that told Dean that Sam was done conversing for a while.

**How to be Dead**

As Sam and Dean pulled into Catawba the sun was just beginning to rise. Dean looked at his brother; Sammy looked dead on his feet. As soon as Sam stepped out of the car, his head pivoted and he glared at an innocent looking shop. Dean noticed the look and raised his eyebrow. "What's up, Sammy?"

"There's definitely something not right with this town. Everyone feels alive, but I just felt something that felt… blank." Sam said, struggling to find a word that would describe the empty feeling that was tugging at his empathy.

"Blank?"

"Forgive me for using a hard word, Dean. Everyone has an emotion and they all buzz around in my head. Like that girl over there is depressed. Her mother is happy because she got laid last night. That man over there, with the suitcase, is hopeful. However, in that shop, I felt something that had no emotions. Every human being feels something."

Dean didn't look like he believed Sam's little speech. "Sam, maybe you're imaging this. You look like you haven't slept in a week."

Sam's eyes flashed dangerously at Dean. "Dean, out of all of my "gifts", empathy was the one I knew right away. You and Dad always said I was the best one of us to draw up sympathy, that I could play people the best because I wear my heart on my sleeve. Well, Dean, you remember how well you used to read me? I can read every one of these people better than that."

Dean held up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "What do you want to do, Sammy? Want me to barge right in and go 'oh, terrible sorry to interrupt, I'm looking for someone that my kid brother can't feel anything from?'"

Sam's lips twitched. "Of course not. The place doesn't open until nine and it's only six-thirty. I want to get a little bit of sleep… You can do research if you want to. I think I saw a motel sign down the block."

Dean paused as Sam gave the building one last look before getting into the Impala. "What's wrong, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. That's what worries me."

**How to be Dead**

Dean checked his watch. It was eight-thirty and Sam had left him with instructions to wake him up at quarter to nine. Dean looked at his kid brother and was surprised that Sam still looked like an innocent kid when he slept. Dean smiled softly and brushed away a piece of hair that had fallen in front of Sam's eyes. Kid would only cut his hair when it was a centimeter away from being considered girly. Sam shifted in his sleep, a slight smile on his face and Dean wondered if Sam's empathy worked even when he was asleep.

Dean frowned. Maybe it was better that Dean had left Sammy with Dad. Dad, while not being a complete and utter bastard, knew how to keep his emotions in check, and something told Dean that someone with that rigid control would be exactly what a young empath needed. Still, Dean had to wonder if he made all the right choices four years ago.

_"Dad, you have to understand! This will be good for me and for Sammy! I'll still be able to go hunting on the weekends!" Dean said._

_John rounded on his son. "Oh, so not only do you think you know what you want, you know what's good for your brother as well?"_

_"Dad, you know Sammy isn't happy with this life! I got into Virginia Tech, Dad, for mechanical engineering. It's a good school and Sam's much smarter than me and you know it. The Ivy League schools are going to be hounding him in three years. When Sam enters college, I'll have graduated. I'll support him Dad."_

_John glared at Dean. "Go ahead and leave. But your brother stays with me. Know this, Dean… If you walk out now, you are not welcome back. You will not contact Sammy or me ever again. What Sam wants to do in four years is what he's doing now."_

_Dean glared right back at his father. "You can't control Sam's life."_

_"While he's a minor, I'm going to control his life."_

_"Dad, I've never asked for anything. I've always done what you wanted of me. Please, let me have this for my little brother. Sammy deserves this."_

_John shook his head and walked away. "As far as I'm concerned, you have no little brother. You have no family."_

Dean frowned as he banished thoughts from that day away. He was here for Sam, not his dad. Sammy asked for his help. A small whimper escaped his little brother's lips and Dean realized that he was broadcasting his emotions loud and clear. He reigned in his temper before he woke Sam up. Dean checked his watch and decided to take a quick shower before it was time to wake Sam up.

Dean came out of the shower in time to see Sam begin to dig through his duffle bag looking for clean clothes. "What's up?"

"I had a vision. Dad's not doing so well. He was walking down an alley again and he turned around to face something, but... Whatever was behind him got to him first. He was attacked by something I couldn't see." Sam said, his lips drawn in a tight line. "I have a feeling like this already happened, but I can't be sure."

"Sammy, why are you so worried about Dad? The two of you never got along."

Sam looked ready to drop everything and just walk out the door, but he sighed and shook his head. Sam always wore his heart on his sleeve and loved to bitch at whoever would listen. "Because he stayed with me! He didn't leave for a dream. When I started to develop my "gifts", he didn't call me freak or freak out because of it. Dean, I'm not a moron. Even though you look okay, underneath, you're freaking out because I'm psychic. Dad may use my abilities as a tool, but he's not scared of me."

"Cut me some slack, Sam! You just appear in my life one day after not saying a word for four years and everything I knew about you changed. Suddenly, you're opening doors without touching them," Dean saw Sam made a grab for his forehead, "Oh, hell no. You don't get to play the empathy card for this one. I'm pissed and you're pissed. You've changed, Sam, and I think I have the right to be a little bit freaked out because you can suddenly move objects with your mind and see the future. You just dropped this in my lap and expect me to be with fine with it. It doesn't work that way."

Sam eyes flashed again and Dean noticed Sam's boots levitating out of the corner of his eye. "You think I had a choice. You think I woke up one day and someone said 'Hey, Sam, got a question for you. Do you want to be psychic or live what you Winchesters consider a normal life?' No. I woke up one day and my bed was two feet off the ground and I could feel every emotion in the motel we were staying at. I could feel the druggie coming off his high and a prostitute leaving a broken family man even more broke. I'm sorry that I just dropped this on your lap, Dean, but I gave you a choice to come with me or not."

"Sammy, you know that I can't refuse you anything. Why do you think I chose to go to school?"

"You keep telling me that I was the reason you left Dean, but I wasn't the one pushing you out the door, telling you to leave. You walked out that door under the power of your own two feet. You left because you wanted to. I respect you for leaving, Dean, and for wanting a better life, but I don't respect that you keep blaming me for decisions you made that went against what you thought you wanted." Sam looked around the hotel and realized that everything was shaking. "Second time in two days I've lost control this badly. An empathetic person with telekinesis is really not a good combination."

Dean blinked as the furniture set itself down. "We have issues."

Sam smirked as he continued to rummage around his bag. "No shit, Sherlock. We better go… that shop is opening up at nine and it's ten to nine right now."

Dean watched his little brother get dressed. He thought he saw some new scars on Sam's arms but he couldn't be certain if it was just shadows playing tricks on him or not. "You said that you use Dad to ground you… So why can't you use your empathy and search out his emotions?"

"I'm not a bloodhound, Dean. Besides, if a person is unconscious, I can't read their emotions. It's like they're dead. And if Dad's awake, there's enough people in this town that unless I'm in a ten foot radius of him, I'm not going to be able to pick his emotions out. It'd be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Did you find anything out while I was sleeping?"

"Not really. The only thing I noticed that before each person died, they had been seen arguing with someone that they cared about, like a husband and wife or mother and son. There are no wounds on any of the victims, they just dropped dead."

Sam grabbed the keys to the motel and Impala. "Let's go and pay the neighborhood shaman a visit."

**How to be Dead**

Sam figured later that he should have seen it coming. In the past two days, he had managed to eat one actual meal and get seven hours of sleep and while Dean's emotions were somewhat familiar to him, they didn't have the rock-solid steadiness and familiarity that their Dad's did.

Upon entering the shaman's building, Sam and Dean were both surprised to see that it had a very modern look and feel to it. So modern, that the shaman had a waiting room and a receptionist. After being assured that the shaman (who went by the name Dr. Shawn Homme) would soon see them, the two settled into the uncomfortable plastic waiting room chairs. Across from them was an arguing married couple and next to them, a father was arguing with his daughter about his choice in dating her ex-boyfriend.

"Tell me, Sammy… When did shamen become relationship counselors?"

Sam had a look on his face that Dean was beginning to recognize as "my empathy is bothering me, but I can't figure out why". It should have bothered Dean more than it did that he was back with his brother for less than a day and he was all ready figuring out his little brother's newest tics.

Dean softened his voice. "What's wrong?"

Sam snapped out of whatever trance he was in, breathing heavily. "I'm fine. Just felt the empty presence again."

"Why do I get the feeling that this shaman isn't just a shaman?" Dean also had the feeling that Sam was lying to him, but he didn't push the subject.

Sam smiled bitterly. "'Cause nothing about this job is easy."

"Mr. Winters and Mr. Chesterfield? Dr. Homme will see you now." The receptionist smiled politely as she led Sam and Dean through a maze of doors. She opened one and ushered them in the room before closing the door behind her.

As soon as Sam entered the room, he felt his empathy go so off kilter so quickly that he had to grab Dean's elbow so that he wouldn't fall over. Dean quickly ushered his brother into one of the chairs. "What's wrong, Sam?"

Sam actually shivered and that worried Dean more than he cared to admit. He kept his death grip on Dean's arm. "It's so cold here… So many people have been through this room and have completely given up hope on their loved ones… It's so barren and it just makes me feel… Something about this feels really off… Like I should recognize something…"

Sam's voice trailed off as the door opened and Dr. Homme walked in. He smiled at both boys, but Dean was sure that he saw a glint in his eyes and that the grin turned a bit ferocious when the good doctor laid eyes on Sam. "Welcome boys. How can I be of service?"

As soon as Sam laid eyes on Dr. Homme, Sam felt the empty feeling beginning to swallow him alive. No matter how tightly he gripped Dean's arm, he just couldn't escape the feeling. Dr. Homme said something before he smiled at Sam and Sam finally gave in to the empty feeling that surrounded him as he sunk into blissful unconsciousness.

Dean felt Sam begin to grip his arm tighter and Dean hoped that, after this hunt was over, that he would be able to use that arm again.

Dr. Homme smiled at Dean. "So, Mr. Chesterfield, what seems to be the problem with Mr. Winters?"

**How to be Dead**

Later, when Dean had time to process everything, he would admit that Sam lost his grip of death on Dean's arm the same time that Dr. Homme turned his full attention on his baby brother. At the current time, Dean was too worried about his brother passing out cold to process anything other than getting Sam out of the building.

Dean had Sam propped up in bed and was regarding his younger brother with a critical eye as Sam finished eating a bag of animal crackers that Dean got from the hotel vending machine. Dean would admit that driving the Impala again was as good as sex, but he wished that the chance had been under circumstances. As soon as Dean entered the hotel room, Sam's color had begun to return and Sam woke up soon after. Dean demanded an explanation and Sam promised him one, but only after Dean got him a bag of animal crackers. "Does this happen a lot, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "I wasn't ready for all of the negative emotions in that room and I haven't slept well since Dad left. Or ate well, for that matter."

Dean sat on Sam's bed and regarded his brother once more. For the first time, Dean realized that Sam was slender under all the layers of clothes he wore. Dean wondered how often Dad remembered to feed Sam; Dean could only guess at how much food that body needed to keep it properly working. Sam waved his arm in front of Deans' face, trying to get his older brother's attention, and this time Dean knew that shadows weren't playing a trick on his eyes. Dean grabbed Sam's arm and blinked at the scars that ran up and down it. "Sammy, what the hell?"

Sam looked at the arm in question before shrugging and yawning. "Remember when I told you how I can't be in hospitals because of what happened the last time? I told you Dad had to stop me from committing suicide. I never mentioned how far I was into the act when Dad came into the room."

Dean paled. "Oh, God… Sammy…"

Sam grinned at his older brother and Dean noted that it was a pale imitation of the one he remembered. Sam just seemed too tried to Dean. "I'm still alive, aren't I? Oh, and hey, you actually touched me. My telekinesis didn't stop you."

"Is that good?" Dean asked, suddenly feeling hopeful about this entire operation.

Sam shrugged. "It took Dad three months before he could touch me without me initiating the contact. My telekinesis wasn't under as much control at the time. It just stopped your hand; it threw him back fifteen feet."

Dean winced. "I bet Dad liked that."

"The telekinesis was the one thing that was unpredictable in the beginning. The visions, well, they're still unpredictable and the empathy just set up shop in my mind and stayed there. Dad couldn't figure out how to train me to tap in to the telekinesis at the right time. He tried everything he could but it was still unpredictable. He took me to so many fakes that I lost count. Finally, we were in the middle of a hunt and a werewolf almost bit Dad. I threw the werewolf off him and then shot him with my gun, all without actually touching anything. After that, I could tap into it whenever I pleased. I still get random outbursts, though."

"With the empathy… You're okay as long as someone is there to ground you?"

"Most of the time. I have to be careful in large crowds or places were people feel intense emotions."

"Like?" Dean couldn't remember needing to pry information out of his baby brother like this before.

"Like hospitals or churches." Sam let out a bone-cracking yawn and Dean smiled at his brother.

"Go to sleep Sammy. I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure out what do about Dr. Homme later."

**How to be Dead**

Sam sat up with a loud gasp. "Dad!"

Dean had been researching shamen on the internet and nearly dropped the laptop when Sam woke up so abruptly. "What the hell?"

"Vision. Dad is in trouble and it doesn't look good at all." Sam grabbed the keys to the Impala and was almost out the door when Dean's arm shot out and grabbed him. "Dean, let me go. We have to get to Dad!"

"Sammy, stop it. You're exhausted and probably starving. If you walk into that office again, you're going to collapse and I don't even want to think about what Dr. Feelgood would do to you."

"_Dean_. Let me go. Dad isn't in the office. Let me go before I make you let go." Sam said, pulling on his arm again.

"Sammy, you're in no condition to go anywhere," Dean said, "Tell me where it is, I'll be fine."

Sam couldn't believe that Dean was arguing with him. "Dean, for the last time: let me go. You're out of practice and we're wasting valuable time!"

Dean looked ready to protest again and Sam narrowed his eyes. Dean was thrown back into the bed and Sam ran to the door. Sam shook his head. "You've missed too much, Dean. You can't handle this on your own. I'm sorry."

In some sick, twisted way, Dean was glad that his brother still cared enough to shove him into a bed, rather than the wall. "Fine, you win. Wait for me."

**How to be Dead**

Dean wasn't sure how his brother could trust something inside his mind. He watched as Sam made turn after turn, going further and further into the back streets of Catawba. "Sam, where are we going?"

"To where Dad is, Dean. Thought we covered this." Sam said, lines of pain etched into his face.

"How do you know where Dad is?"

"I just do."

"_How_ can you trust this "gift" you have?"

If Sam didn't realize how urgent getting to their dad was, he would have stopped the Impala and threw Dean out of it. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Go screw yourself, Dean. How can you trust your heart to keep beating? You just do. You know, I thought this would be like before you left. I thought you could trust me. I thought that you of all people would be able to look above the freaky-ass _thing_ that I am and see your little brother. But I was wrong. When this is over, I'll drop you off at Virginia Tech, and mark my words, Dean, you will never, ever see me again. I'm sorry that what I am freaks you out, but I'm still Sam."

Dean almost growled. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I'm still getting used to the fact that you suddenly know what I'm feeling. Isn't there an off switch?"

"I wish there was a way to turn it off. At least then I couldn't keep feeling that you're afraid of me." Sam's voice was bleak.

"I was brought up to trust what I could see and be wary of things that I can't. I can't see your "gifts"," and Sam would be damned if Dean just didn't do the air quotation marks around the word 'gift', "so, I don't trust them. Whoever these things reside in doesn't matter."

Sam sighed and pulled into the driveway of an abandoned old house. He popped open the trunk and unlocked the combination lock that hid the weapons compartment. He pulled out a Glock and Dean took a moment to look at the trunk. Everything was neatly organized into compartments. It looked like Martha Stewart had been there.

"Get bored?"

Sam ignored the question and pulled out a different gun and handed it to Dean. "Do you remember how to fire one of these?"

"It's been four years, Sam. Not forty."

Sam took his words as truth and together they approached the house. Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Dean, don't touch the door." Sam didn't need to open his eyes to know that his brother had a guilty look on his face. "The shaman has to be here. I can feel something empty. I think that Dad is here too… I think that's his determination."

"Well, Psychic Wonder, what next?"

Sam very carefully picked the lock on the door before opening it with telekinesis. He was going to go in first when Dean shot him a nasty look and Sam smirked as Dean entered. "Oh, I forget, Deanie… Ladies first."

**How to be Dead**

The brothers weren't quite sure what to expect as they made their way down the steps to the cellar. Really, not much surprised Sam (who had long since decided that the motto of his life was "been there, done that, probably saw it happen before it actually did, and the t-shirt was destroyed by a black dog"… oh, and being a psychic helped support that motto), and Dean had seen his fair share of creepies. However, seeing their father pinned to the wall as blood from various cuts dripped into a large container underneath his body was something that neither brother was ready to see. Sam was glad that his vision had only showed John strapped to the wall; Sam could barely stomach the sight once, he was sure that a second time would probably have some terribly long lasting mental damage. Not that he wasn't going to have his fair share of nightmares after this.

Dean tilted his head and looked at his father for the first time in four years. The man seemed less powerful than Dean remembered and Dean wasn't sure why he was so loyal to the man anymore.

Sam took a step towards their father. "Dad!"

John opened and looked at Sam before his eyes settled on Dean. "Oh, Dean…"

"Hey, Dad. Little brother is a good recruiter. You should be proud." Dean said.

John nodded but didn't say a word to either son.

"Let's get you down, Dad. The shaman is…"

"Right here. Hello, precious." The shaman's body gave a violent twitch before it dropped dead to the ground. For the first time since Dean saw his brother again, he saw a real look of panic on Sam's face and he saw John's eyes open in shock. He watched as what looked like little black specs of dust materialize into a body.

Sam was shaking his head and slowly walking backwards. "No. Dad and I killed your sorry ass. You can't still be here, Nyx."

Nyx cracked his neck. "Oh, but I am, precious. I knew you would remember me and I knew you would come if I took Daddy here."

The panic look on Sam's face dissolved in to a look of pure malice. John suddenly dropped from his restraints and then a knife that Dean didn't even know his brother was carrying flew towards the demon.

The demon only tsk'ed at Sam. "If you'd only come with me, precious, I could teach you so much more. You'd have even more control over your telekinesis. Your emotions wouldn't cause it to flare out of control."

Dean knelt down towards John and John smiled. "Good to see you, Dean."

"You too, sir."

Sam spared his father and brother a glance and John tipped his head to greeting and offered his youngest a smile, which Sam easily returned. The demon noticed the exchange and grinned at the boys. "I see you found your brother, precious. Good on you."

"Leave them all alone, Nyx. It's me you want."

Nyx grinned. "So true, precious. So true. However, there's two things standing in my way."

John suddenly let out a gargled scream before blood began to pour out of the hundreds out of little cuts on his body. Dean and Sam watched in horror as the cuts grew larger and larger, slowly growing to meet one another. With one last anguished scream, what was left of John's blood exploded from his body. Nyx smiled in pleasure before the container in which John's blood had been collected appeared in his hands.

"Oh, and now there's only one. Ta, precious. I'll be in touch."

Sam knelt down in his father's blood at the same time that Dean stood up and back away. Sam tried to take his father's listless and lifeless corpse into his arms, but there was no where Sam could find to safely touch him. "Oh, no… Dad. No. You can't go like this. You told me you wouldn't leave me alone, ever. You promised me, Dad."

For some reason, in the back of his mind, Dean was devastated more by the fact that Sam said he would be alone than his father dying. "Sammy… There's nothing we can do… Dad's dead, Sam."

Sam shook his head and for the first time, Dean really saw his little brother instead of a bitter young psychic. "No, Dean. Dad can't be dead. We have jobs left to do. He didn't get to kill the demon that killed Mom. Dad isn't dead. He can't be. He said he'd always be there for me. I didn't see this coming."

Dean pulled Sam out of the blood and hugged his little brother. He felt a few tears escape Sam's eyes and when objects in the room began to shake, Dean found himself, for the first time, not afraid of his brother, but afraid _for_ his brother. "Sammy… Oh, little brother."

Sam suddenly wrested himself out of Dean's hold and the objects slowly stopped shaking. "No. The job… the job isn't done. We need to… salt and… burn him, Dean. It's what he would have wanted. I'm going to go get the salt and lighter fluid from the Impala…"

Dean watched his brother go back up the stairs before looking at his father's corpse. "I don't care what you do to me or yourself, but, you hurt my little brother. Sammy depended on you and you died on him. Damn you, Dad."

Sam came back down the steps and offered Dean some salt. Together, the brothers did the toughest thing ever.

They salted and burned their father's corpse.

**How to be Dead**

"Sammy, tell me that wasn't the demon that killed mom."

"No, Dean. It wasn't." Sam's voice sounded empty as he got into the Impala.

"What now?" Dean asked, as he slammed the door to the Impala shut.

Sam smiled sadly at Dean. "I'm dropping you off at Virginia Tech, Dean."

"Dad just died, Sammy! What is going on with you? Why are you acting this way?" Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Sam glared at Dean and Dean was suddenly really glad that Sam had control over his telekinesis. Because if he didn't, Dean wasn't sure he'd still be alive. "Dean, I know Dad is dead. Believe me, I know. The one person who never left me, never thought I was a freak, is dead and the one time a premonition would have come in handy, I didn't have one. You weren't there when we'd be on a case and I'd move something with my mind and not even realize I did it. Every single time I did it, you should see the looks people gave me. I wish you could have felt the disgust and fear radiating off of them when they realized that the hunter they trusted had a son that was just like what they called the hunter to get rid of. Dad never, ever stood for it. Ever. Their first look of whatever and he would flat out tell them to get over it or we'd walk out and they could deal with their own problem. And he actually went through with it once. So, yes, Dean, I'm going to act like everything is fine. Cause I don't have clue on how else to act."

Dean blinked at this brother's speech before giving in to Sam's wishes. "What are you going to do, Sammy?"

"I'm going to visit Missouri for a while and recuperate. After that? I don't know."

"You can go to school, Sam. Dad… isn't here anymore to control your life. I'm sure that Stanford would be more than happy to have you."

Sam shook his head. "Finish your education Dean. If I was meant for college, I would have gone."

Dean looked at his brother up and down. "You sure about that? You're prime college material, little brother."

"Dean, I see can the future and college is nowhere in it."

"You going to keep hunting?"

Sam nodded. "It's all I know and really, there's nowhere else I can go. Missouri would love to have me, but as for having a normal life… That's for normal people. I would freak my roommate out whenever I got pissed or have a continuous headache because of all the horny college students."

"How about having a partner as you continue the family business?"

Sam paused as he considered the ramifications of what Dean was saying. "Dean, you have to make sure you want this. I don't want to be blamed for this in three months… three years down the road. Come with me because you want to, not out of some latent feelings of familial guilt."

"I can take a semester off. The scholarship I have lasts for five years." Dean nodded, as if all of the problems of the world had been solved.

Sam shook his head. "No. If you go with me Dean, you go with me permanently. I can't lose you again and I don't want to worry that something I say or something I _do_ will upset you and cause you to leave. All or nothing, Dean. I have one more night at the motel in Wabun. If you're there before I leave tomorrow at noon, great. If not… I wasn't lying when I said I would never see you again, Dean."

"Sam, this isn't fair." Dean's eyes flashed.

The look Sam gave him was all too old. "Neither is life, Dean. I'll drop you off at school."

"Sam, will that freak be coming after you again?"

Sam didn't answer him.

**How to be Dead**

Dean showed up at the motel in Wabun at exactly 11:59. Sam hoped again hope that Dean wasn't coming just to say goodbye. Sam had heard the tales of what happened to an empath without someone to keep him grounded, but there was no way that Sam was forcing his brother to come along.

"Where's Dad's truck?" Dean asked, not seeing the familiar black truck anywhere. "I thought it would be here."

"I called in a favor… It's in Lawerence. When I get there, I'll go through the weapons and sell the truck. Need all the money I can get."

Dean showed Sam his two duffle bags. "What's all this 'I' talk, Sammy? It's _we_."

Sam's smile was small, but it was still a real smile.


	2. My Dreams Pass Before My Eyes

Title: My Dreams Pass Before My Eyes  
Series: Can I Call in Dead?  
Author: Moonfairyhime  
Rating: T  
Characters: Sam, Dean, Caleb, Missouri, and a handful of other hunters  
Disclaimer: I don't own the lovely Winchester boys.  
Summary: John is gone and Dean is now back with Sam. However, when given another opportunity to escape the hunter's lifestyle, Dean has to make a decision.  
Notes: This is an AU fic, in which Dean leaves for school and Sam is left with John. However, Sam has developed his "gifts" a few years earlier. Please keep in mind that this is not the normal Sam you're used to—this is a bitter Sam who is completely resigned to his fate. Sam is eighteen and Dean is twenty-two A huge hug and kiss go out to lucywiggin for a wonderful job of beta-ing. If you have any questions, well, there is one more installment in the works. Title taken from Kansas' song "Dust in the Wind". This is the edited version. If you want the un-edited version, e-mail me. Basically, I just cut out almost all of the swearing so I could post it here.

* * *

Dean blinked as he and Sam passed a sign welcoming them into Kansas. Dean looked at his younger brother, still shocked by the events that transpired a mere two days ago. "Sammy, do you want me to drive? Is your empathy bothering you?" 

Sam shook his head again. "No, Dean. I'm fine. All I can feel is you worrying about me and a twinge of something I can't figure out. Are sad at all that Dad is dead?"

Dean sighed. He was hoping to have this conversation when Sam was better rested. "Of course I'm sad, Sammy… But Dad left you alone…"

"You're here now." But Dean could hear the unspoken 'at least until you leave _me _again'.

"Right. I'm here now, but Sammy, you were used to Dad's emotions… You said it yourself… While my emotions are familiar, you don't know me inside and out anymore."

"Why do you think I'm going to Missouri? It'll give us some down time. I can get used to your emotions and I can re-train you."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a puppy, Sam. I don't need re-trained."

"Dean, you've been out of the game for four years. You're starting to develop love handles, dude." Sam appeared amused by this aspect.

Dean looked worriedly at his midsection before he caught Sam's lopsided grin out of the corner of his eye and Dean had to stop himself from grinning. He could take care of Sammy. He did it when he was little and he could do it again.

* * *

Dean watched with hooded eyes as a slightly overweight African-American woman walked down the porch of her house just as the Impala pulled into the driveway. As soon as Sam's door was open, the woman hugged Sam's lanky ass as tightly as she could. Sam hugged her back with equal ferocity. Dean blinked. Sam had mentioned going to Missouri and it clicked that Missouri was the woman hugging Sam. At the time, Dean hadn't wondered who she was, but now, Dean was a little skeptical. 

"Oh, my word, Sam. It's good to see you again, boy. Wish it could be under better circumstances. Your daddy was a good man, honey, and you know that I ain't lying to you. Come now, I just put some of my soup on to boil. You have enough time to take a good long shower before dinner." Missouri started to lead Sam towards the house before she turned around and faced Dean. She looked Dean up and down and up again. "You must be Dean. I'm Missouri. I was a good friend of your daddy's. I haven't seen you since you were a little tyke. Must say, you didn't grow up too much."

Dean blinked and wondered if it was snowing in Hell. Since when did people like his brooding little brother more than him?

* * *

Missouri dished out the soup to both Sam and Dean. "How long are you boys staying?" 

Sam gave the older woman a gentle smile and Dean could see Missouri softening up. "As long as you'll have us, Missouri."

"Oh, baby, you know you're welcome here anytime," Missouri said, "Now, both of you eat. Sam, you're way too skinny as it is and Dean, well, I don't want anybody dying while they were staying at my house. Sam, your room is all ready for you, and Dean, I have two options for you: your daddy's old room or the couch downstairs. Sorry, I don't have any other options for you."

Dean gave a confused look to Sam. Sam grinned slightly at his brother. Sam knew he should have warned Dean about Missouri's gift on the way over, but he had to admit, it was worth it to see the look on his older brother's face. "Missouri has ESP."

Dean blinked and Missouri rolled her eyes. "I can read your mind, Dean. I'm different than Sam. He can read your emotions while I can read your thoughts. Not that they're particularly deep or anything."

Sam chuckled into his soup and Dean decided that all the abuse was worth it to see his brother laughing. Missouri gave him an approving nod.

"Missouri, did Dad's truck get here safely?" Sam asked.

"Yes, honey. It's back behind the house. Don't you be thinking about going and seeing to your business now. It can wait until morning. You need to rest, Sam. Why don't you go ahead on up to bed… Dean and I can handle the dishes."

Sam gave Missouri a slight nod. "That sounds like a plan. Are the wards still in place?"

"I refreshed them when you called after John died, honey. Go to sleep."

Sam kissed Missouri's cheek and offered Dean a slight smile before he headed up the steps. Dean watched as Missouri cleaned off the table before she situated herself in front of the sink. Missouri shook her head at Dean. "You're a fool, boy."

"Isn't it a little too early to be making judgments?"

Missouri shook her head. "Not when I can read your thoughts. Now, Dean, honey, your daddy just died. You're upsetting Sam with how stoic you're being about his death."

"When the hell did Dad and Sam get so close?"

"Watch your language boy, or you'll be sleeping in your brother's car. Now, you wanted to know when your daddy and Sam got so close. Lots of reasons, really. They were the only two left. You were gone, honey. Sam and John had to learn how to live in what passed for harmony for them or they were going to get each other killed. But one hunt really sticks out in my mind like a sore thumb. Your daddy introduced me properly to Sam about a month after you left. Sam was your typical angry teenager, all sullen and quiet. Your daddy was fed up with Sam and how he acted. Told me how he wanted you back and didn't understand how the good son turned out so bad. Sam heard every word, but bless that poor boy; he never made a noise from where he was listening on the steps. After your daddy got done ranting and raving, I told him Sam had heard every word. You should have heard the things your daddy said to me, boy. I made him sleep in his truck because of it.

"After that, Sam wasn't as sullen, but he was still quiet. Anyhow, the two of them headed out west to where vampires were plaguing a college town. One of the vampires caught John unawares and Sam took the sword that was meant for John. Sam still managed to kill the vampire too. Made John realize that even if he didn't have you, he still had one son that was a darn good hunter. John got Sam patched up and they headed back here and John let Sam recuperate for two weeks in peace. And I'll be darned if John didn't actually talk to the boy instead of at him for once. I don't know what they said to each other, but it worked. While your brother and your daddy may have not always seen eye to eye on things after that, they managed to make it work. And then your brother got his gifts and all of that protectiveness John had for Sam tripled.

"Yes, boy, I'm going to tell you the story. After Sam first got his gifts, he was weaker than a newborn kitten. Telekinesis is bad enough, but coupled with empathy and foresight, your brother was a right mess. They were a good nine hundred miles away, taking care of a ghost in Laramie, Wyoming. Your daddy made a fifteen-hour drive in about twelve hours. He arrived in the middle of the night, your poor brother bundled up in his arms. And the look he gave me… Oh, Dean, I don't think I can accurately describe it. I tried to take Sam from your daddy, but he refused to give him up. It was like he was clutching to his last lifeline and if he lost Sam, and then John Winchester wasn't going to exist anymore. I finally got John to let Sam go and we got his empathy balanced out on John and well, you know the rest. Or at least you would if you opened up to your brother more."

Dean glared at Missouri. "I've opened up to him more the past four days than I have my entire life."

Missouri shook her head sadly. "You need to learn the lesson that your daddy did. I just hope Sam can take teaching someone else. No Dean, I ain't going to tell you what it is. That's something you have to learn on your own. Your daddy did and the good Lord knows what a stubborn man he was. I hope you can learn it too. I'm going to bed. Your room is the first room on the right. Bathroom is across from it. Breakfast will be served promptly at seven thirty tomorrow morning."

"Wait, Missouri…"

"You want to know what Sam meant by wards around his room? I have some pouches in each corner of his bedroom. They help keep his visions at bay while he's here. Nothing can stop them, but this keeps some of the particularly nasty ones away. Now, Dean, I'm going to bed. I suggest you do the same."

Dean watched as Missouri walked up the stairs. Was every psychic out there as weird as Sam and Missouri?

"I heard that, boy."

Dean's head fell against the table.

* * *

Dean stumbled down the steps at seven twenty-four in the morning and wasn't all the surprised to see Missouri flipping pancakes and Sam munching on a pretty impressive stack. He grunted hello to Sam and managed a nod to Missouri before pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking a big gulp, only to choke on it a minute later. "What is this?" 

Missouri rounded on him dangerously, her spatula pointed at Dean as if she were about to hit him. "Dean Winchester, you will watch your mouth!"

Sam appeared amused with the entire situation. "It's chamomile tea."

Dean looked really sad. "There's no coffee?"

"No, Dean," Sam said shaking his head as he felt how truly sad Dean was without his coffee, "But there is a Starbucks in town."

Dean grinned ecstatically. "Sammy, can I borrow the Impala?"

Sam's entire demeanor changed. "No."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. "All I want is a cup of coffee. I promise nothing will happen to the Impala."

Sam scooted away from the table. "Dammit, Dean, no!"

"Sam Winchester!" Missouri's voice broke up the impending argument.

Sam looked immediately contrite. "I'm going to go through Dad's truck. Dean, you touch the Impala, I will know about it, and I will kill you."

Dean watched as Sam slammed the back door as politely as he could. "I never thought I'd say this about the Impala, but it's just a car."

Missouri slammed a plate of pancakes in front of Dean. "Boy, are you playing dumb or are you just that stupid?"

Dean cut into the pancakes and looked at Missouri. "What do you mean?"

"The Impala was probably the first thing that John ever gave Sam that Sam ever really wanted. Your brother, Dean, he wasn't like you and your daddy. Never took too much pleasure out of hunting. Understood the reason behind it, but never liked it. It wasn't until after you left that John started to really understand your brother. You weren't there to act as the buffer, so they clashed. But on Sam's sixteenth birthday, Sam woke up and John handed him a small box. Inside of it was the main set of keys to the Impala. Honey, your dad gave the Impala, _willingly_, to your brother on his sixteenth birthday. That meant the world to your brother. Sam could come and go as he pleased now and he could get away from John when it all got to be too much. Then a month later, his abilities appeared and well…"

"Has Sam ever had a vision while driving?"

"Once or twice, that I know of," Missouri said, looking thoughtful. "'Course, Sam would be the right person to ask. Dean, go to your brother, honey. You need him and he needs you."

Dean nodded.

* * *

Dean knew he shouldn't be impressed with how much arsenal that his father had managed to collect over the years, but _damn_. Dean was pretty sure there was less ammunition in a gun shop. Sam grinned at his brother. "Impressive, isn't it?" 

"I don't believe that Dad had all this stuff. How much are you going to keep?" Dean asked. He didn't remember Dad having this many weapons. In fact, Dean would swear that the cache had doubled since he had left for Virginia Tech.

"I'm going to keep all of the rounds and some of the blessed blades. As for the guns… Those were his and I would never feel comfortable using them. Whatever you don't want, I'm going to offer to Father Jim and anyone else who comes down for the memorial service. Whatever everybody doesn't want, I'm going to take to pawn shops around town. As for the truck, I'm going to take out this storage compartment and put an ad in the paper. I have the Impala… I don't need the truck. Unless you want it."

Dean shook his head 'no' in response to wanting the truck before he paused. "There's going to be a memorial service? When did you plan this?"

"After Dad died and I dropped you off at Virginia Tech, I called Missouri and told her that I was coming to her place and that Dad died. She promised to pass along the news to Father Jim and everyone else and agreed that Dad wouldn't be too offended by a memorial service. She's planned pretty much the entire thing. It's going to be held in two days from now… that'll give everyone enough time to get here."

"You really like her, don't you?" Dean asked.

Sam gave Dean a small smile. "Yeah, I do. She's always been motherly to me. Used to make Dad laugh the way she would fuss at me when we came back from hunts. Dad brought me here after you left, we were heading out to Utah to deal with a skin walker and Missouri's house was closer than any hotel. Missouri told me that she told you the story last night, Dean." Sam's ringing cell phone surprised both of the brothers and he shrugged at Dean. "Hello? Caleb? Hey. How are you?"

Dean heard Missouri walking towards him and he turned and greeted her. Missouri smiled as she watched Sam in her garden walking around, talking on his cell phone. "Sam… bless that boy. He took a big risk in going to see you. He had other options, but he still went to see you."

"What do you mean?"

"He's empathetic, boy. Don't be obtuse. Sam needs someone familiar to ground himself. Without having John, he needs you."

"What would have happened if I went back to Virginia Tech?"

"Well, near as I can tell, Sam would have had two options. He either would have become the male equivalent of the cat lady or he would have went crazy and killed himself."

Dean blinked and stared at his brother. Missouri smiled. "Now you're getting it. When Sam is done talking to Caleb, tell him to come in. I want to work on synching your brother with your emotions. He's starting to fray at the edges."

"How can you tell? He always appears in control. The first evening Dad was gone, he looked wild and almost about to go insane. He's acting like he normally acts."

"In time, you will relearn how your brother works." Missouri smiled patiently at Dean before walking away.

"What does that mean?"

* * *

Two hours later found both Sam and Dean sitting on Missouri's living room floor. Missouri herself was sitting on the couch carefully watching the boys. 

"Dean, why are you so nervous?" Sam asked.

"I'm still not sure what you're doing."

"Dean!"

"More or less, I'm going to synch my emotions and my being with yours. This way, in a crowd, I can find you and it'll stop me from shutting down. Too many emotions are bad… I end up collapsing."

"You're going to 'synch' your emotions with me? Geez, Sammy, how much time did you and Dad spend in California while I was gone? Besides, you've grounded yourself off me already, so is this really necessary?"

Sam nodded. "Grounding is different than synching. Grounding is a quick hit. It balances me out and lets me function for a while. Synching, however, lets me always have someone familiar to be with. It keeps me balanced longer. Like I said, I can find you in a crowd and focus on your emotions, not everyone else's. Grounding just doesn't let me do that. Oh, we were in California for six months. I wanted to finish high school in the same school that I started the semester in. We happened to be in California at the time and I managed to talk Dad into hunting locally for a while and Dad agreed."

Dean whistled, impressed. "How did you manage to graduate a year early, anyhow?"

"We were in some backwater town the beginning of my freshman year of high school. Turns out that I was smarter than the curriculum they had set up for freshmen, so they let me skip my freshman year."

Missouri, while glad to see the brothers actually talking, shook her head. Sam needed to set up the connection. "Boys…"

"Missouri's right," Sam said, shifting his weight slightly, "Okay, Dean. Begin by counting back from ten."

"Sam, there is no way that I'm meditating."

Sam sighed and just stopped himself from massaging her temples. He hid a frustrated sigh as he picked up Dean's slight amusement at the idea of meditation along with his resentment of the idea and Missouri's annoyance at his older brother. "Dean, if you could not act like a frat boy for one minute, I'd greatly appreciate, because I'm about to go crazy."

Dean bristled at the frat boy comment, before he sighed. This was for Sammy. "All right. Sorry, Sam."

Sam took a deep breath. "Count from ten backwards. Ten, nine, eight…"

Dean counted back with Sam but had to stifle a snort when he hit five. He couldn't believe his little brother had talked him into meditating. Sam sighed and rubbed his temples before standing up. "I give up. Screw it. I'll just be the guy version of the crazy cat lady. Dean, this is serious. I'm sorry you have the mentality of a five year old, but I like being sane."

"I'm sorry Sam, but really? Meditation? Is there any other way you can… What's the word? "Synch" with me?"

Sam shook his head. "No, Dean, seriously, forget about it."

For the first time, Dean noticed that Missouri was right. Sam was beginning to fray around the edges a little bit. "Sammy…"

"It's **Sam**," Sam said, anger flashing in his eyes. "I'm sorry I asked you to learn how to meditate, but maybe, it's because, without you, I'll go crazy. Do you think I like being dependent on another person, Dean? Do you think I enjoy it? You know that I don't."

"Sam Winchester, watch your mouth!" Missouri's warning came a bit too late… The damage was done.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "You've been asking a lot of me, little brother. Leaving school to go looking for Dad for one night? That's fine. _Sammy_, I left Virginia Tech for you."

"You choose to leave, Dean. I did not pressure you one way or the other. You made a choice and now you have to live with it. And you're thinking you're making the wrong one. I can feel the regret rolling off you. Your baby brother too much to handle? Not only is your baby brother a psychic, he's now dependent on you so that he stay sane."

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth, Sam." Dean said, his voice deadly soft.

"I'm not putting words in your mouth, Dean. I'm only saying what you're too chicken shit to admit!"

"BOYS!" Missouri's voice cut across the argument. "Enough berating each other. You two have to learn to work together as a team and this isn't the way to do it. Now, both of you calm down. You especially, Dean, because your anger ain't helping your brother any."

"Maybe I don't want to help Sam anymore. I tried to help him before and it always turned out worse for me. I left hunting so that Sam could have a better life and in the end, who drags me back into it? Why, it's little Sammy Winchester."

"You always go back to the claim to have left me and Dad so that I could have had a better life. I don't get it Dean… You chose to leave. You chose to leave me and Dad. And now you're bitter because you've realized how much you missed. Did you ever, once, try to contact me in the four years you were gone? No. You didn't."

"That one goes both ways, Sammy. You could have called me. You never bothered. And once Dad gave you the Impala, you could have driven over to see me."

"No I couldn't have. I had my abilities to contend with and learn how to use. I got my abilities in June, Dean, and by the time I learned how to live with the empathy and control the telekinesis, the school I was going to for that month was starting in three days. Dad and Missouri watched me like a hawk," Sam said, ignoring Missouri as she tried to interject herself into the argument. Sam knew he would catch hell for all of this later, but at the moment, he didn't care. "And I still don't understand, why out of all of the emotions I feel radiating off of your body, why sorrow isn't one of them? Aren't you the least bit sad that Dad's dead?"

Dean appeared to think for a moment before he grinned. "I feel regret over losing my dreams and choosing this life again. I feel regret over the fact that I now have to baby-sit my empathic younger brother or else he'll go crazier. But sorrow over Dad's death… I can't feel sad, because I've got you to keep me busy. After all, I have to learn how to take care of you, _again_."

Tears threatened to escape Sam's eyes and for the first time, the brothers noticed that everything in Missouri's living room was levitating. Missouri herself had given up all semblance of trying to meditate between the two and was now hoping that her house survived what she knew was coming. "Screw. You. Dean. I don't know when I became the good son and you became, well, me, but I didn't like role reversal and Dad didn't like being you and himself after you left, but he managed it. And for that, I owe him everything. He wasn't afraid to become an anchor for me and he didn't have regrets. He just took life as it came to him. You know, he was so supportive of me after you left, he was afraid of me leaving him, even if he never told me that in words. You know, he was actually there for my high school graduation and he was stone sober. He was drunk for yours wasn't he? And for some reason, I clearly remember him falling off the bleachers after they called your name and drunkenly going 'that's my boy!'"

Dean glared at Sam and started to throw a punch but it met an invisible force. Dean grinned evilly at his brother. "Go ahead, Sammy, do your worse."

Sam took a deep breath and his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. Dean, shocked, made a quick dive for his brother. "What happened?"

"Your brother's walls have been deteriorating ever since your daddy died. This was the last straw for him, honey. You shutting him out like that caused his walls to completely crumble. Poor boy has to retreat into himself to build up some walls against our emotions." Missouri frowned at Sam. "He's getting better at hiding things from me. I don't like that. Dean, honey, let's get your brother into bed and then you and I need to talk."

* * *

As soon as Sam was tucked into bed, Dean turned and glared at Missouri. "What just happened to Sammy?" 

Missouri, whose long acquaintance with the Winchesters and used to random mood swings, didn't even blink at the change of annoyed to worried and protective. "I told you, Dean. Sam has mental walls up to protect his mind. They've completely crumbled… Any emotion that Sam feels right now, he'll think is his own. If he feels more than a couple of different emotions at once, he's going to shut down, like he did a few minutes ago. The boy is tired; Dean, and that argument didn't help. Sam needs your help, Dean, so please, help him."

Dean looked at Missouri. "What does this synching entail?"

Missouri stared at Dean and heard the honesty in his words. "Dean, honey, you realize that if you synch with your brother, you can't go back to Virginia. You'll be back in this life because Sam can't leave it."

"_Won't_ leave it." Dean corrected.

Missouri shook her head. "Never mind semantics right now. All Sam will do is this, honey. He can't have the normal life he wanted, and really, he's okay with that."

Dean was pissed. "This all comes back to me leaving, doesn't it? Drop it."

Missouri watched as Dean slammed the door. "Oh, baby. You and that brother of yours…"

* * *

_"SAMMY!" Dean turned around just in time to see his brother get taken down by a black dog._

_"Dean! Sam can finish that one off! Do your job, Dean!" John sounded upset._

_Dean bit his lip and fought of the instinctual urge to run to his brother. "Yes, sir."_

_Dean dealt with the black dog that was in front of him before turning to help Sam. Sam had managed to shoot the dog, but not before it had inflicted some serious damage on his little brother._

_"Sammy, get up." John growled at his youngest son after making sure that all of the dogs were gone. Dean moved to help his brother, but John grabbed his arm and shook his head._

_"Dad, a black dog just mauled him. His arm is broken and I think that leg needs stitches. He needs me to help him stand up," Dean himself was bleeding from a few places and even John was not without a handful of bruises and cuts. There was only supposed to one black dog, but as soon as John had shot the first one, four more had come out of the woods. Sam had been caught unaware when one leaped onto his back. John looked at Dean before letting go of Dean's arm and moving towards his younger son._

_"He needs trained more, that's what he needs." John was gruff as he helped Sam stand. "How are you, boy?"_

_Sam glared at John from underneath bloodstained bangs. "Fine, sir."_

_John nodded. "Then you can walk back to the car. As soon as that arm is healed, we'll have to double your training."_

_Sam didn't say a word to John and allowed Dean to assist him to the car. As soon as Sam was settled into the backseat, Dean turned to his father. "What's going on, Dad?"_

_"Sam is thirteen. It's time for him to be a serious hunter, Dean. No more of his attitude and it's not acceptable for him to get caught so unaware. We'll patch him up in the motel room before we head south for Virginia."_

_"Dad, Sam needs a hospital." Dean argued, not believing his dad._

_"Dean, I've patched you up when you were hurt worse. Sam will be fine. You need to stop babying him." _

Dean shook his head to clear the memory. Whenever he tried to think of why he left home, this always seemed to such a defining moment. Sam had been hurt worse without going to the hospital, but Dad had never been so callous about it before. Dean remembered the months after Sam fully recovered… Dad had trained him and drilled him over and over again until Dean wasn't sure what was going to break first: Sam's spirit and body or Dean's temper. For two weeks straight, Dean had to help his brother make it into the bed. At the end of the two weeks, Dean found himself mailing in the application for Virginia Tech. It wasn't until the mailbox lid closed that Dean realized what he had just done.

A part of Dean wanted to dive into the mailbox and take the letter out, but another part, one that sounded so much happier, said to wait and see.

Dean walked away from the mailbox.

* * *

Caleb arrived the next day. Dean had spent the time in a vigil over his younger brother, hoping that Sam would wake up soon. Caleb entered the room and snorted at Dean. "Winchester." 

"Reaves. You're here early."

"Missouri said that the kid was in bad shape," Caleb gave Sam a fond smile. "I came to help him out."

"I can take care of my little brother," Dean said.

"Great job you're doing of it."

Sam moaned softly and both Dean and Caleb were drawn to the sound like a moth to a flame. Caleb sat down on the bed. "Kid, it's time to get up."

Sam's eyes slid open and favored Caleb with a grin. "Caleb, you're early."

"Heard you were having some issues. The offer is still open, Sam."

"I may need to take you up on it." Sam said before a soft sigh escaped. "It's not going the way I had hoped."

"I can tell."

Dean watched the exchange with a puzzled look on his face. When Caleb stood up and walked away, Dean followed. Sam watched the two leave, felt the tension in the air, and decided that he'd rather be sleeping.

* * *

"What did you offer my brother?" 

Caleb had to give Dean some props. He waited until the door was shut before asking any questions. "Can we get away from Sam's door? He has no walls right now and I'd rather not cause his mind to collapse."

Dean growled at Caleb, but did as he asked. Caleb led Dean out of the house and outside. "All right, Dean."

"What is going on?"

"Sam can't have someone messing with his balance. Before John died, I told Sam that if something should ever to John, he could synch with me. Sam played down the offer… Didn't think John would die so early or that you'd abandon him."

"Why is everybody on Sam's side? I did nothing wrong! I went to school. I wanted to do better than this… _mess_. I wanted better for Sam. Now my little brother is resigned to a fate…" Dean's voice trailed off as he realized who he was talking to.

Caleb grinned. It wasn't a nice grin. "Sam isn't resigned."

Dean snorted. "Have you talked to him lately?"

"Just did. The boy is complex. He likes part of this life, especially with his empathy. I'm not going to lie, there are parts he hates. But Sam likes to help people… And so do you. You're so busy looking into the past that you can't see the future. Dean, all Sam can see anymore is the future. He wants you to be there."

Dean heard the unspoken question, 'Do you want to be there?'

* * *

Later that day, Dean went upstairs to talk to Sam and figure out everything that was going on, but he stopped outside of his little brother's door when he realized that there was someone else in the room with Sam. 

"Caleb, I appreciate the offer, but I'm hoping I don't need it."

"Sam, this blind faith is great, but it's going to get you screwed over."

"Dad's dead, Dean's ignoring me, and Nyx isn't dead, Caleb. I'd say I'm screwed over already."

"Sam, just say the word, and you know I'll synch with you."

Dean heard Sam sigh. "Give Dean until the end of the week to decide," Sam's voice became a little louder, "Oh, Dean, I'd be a piss-poor empath if I couldn't tell that you were outside."

If Dean did embarrassed, he would have been so. However, he was Dean Winchester and he just didn't embarrassed. Instead, he slinked into the room as if it had been his intention all along. He nodded to both of the men in the room. "Sammy, Caleb."

Caleb just nodded and walked out. Sam offered Dean a smile and Dean tried not to notice how the water bottle next to Sam was floating in mid-air. Sam grinned sheepishly before the bottled floated back to its spot on the nightstand next to the bed. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

"My walls are almost up to where I can function again. I should be able to the memorial service… Probably won't be able to attend the entire thing, but I'll at least make an appearance."

"Sammy…"

Sam gave Dean a weak smile as he shifted so he was sitting up better. "No, Dean, really, it's okay. If you want to go back to Virginia Tech, that's fine. I did drag you back into this life unwillingly after you left it willingly. Caleb will be around, so I'll be fine."

Missouri smiled at both of the boys as she walked into the room. "Sam, you're getting quicker at rebuilding your walls."

Sam blushed at the proud feeling that came from Missouri. "Thank you."

Dean walked out of the room, ignoring the looks from Missouri and Sam. He had some things to think about. Four years ago, he had left hunting for Sam's sake—could he really, truly begin to hunt again for the same reason?

* * *

Dean sat down on Missouri's porch and stared at nothing. He left to protect Sam; that was what he had always told himself. Dad had been getting more and more reckless with their health as the years passed and Dean wanted better for his little brother. 

But he also wanted better for himself.

Sure, Dean was always proud of Sam—the kid was too smart for his own good. Dad had known it and so did Dean. Dean realized that Sam was going places, and Dean never wanted to be without his Sammy.

And then he had four years to himself at Virginia Tech. He would be lying if he said he hated it. He didn't have to look after a single-minded Yoda-like father and a precocious, brooding younger brother. He was Dean Winchester, college student. He had real friends that were his age, a real girlfriend.

But he was lonely. He missed his Yoda-like father and his quiet little brother. He could tell Sam anything and Sam would listen; Dad would always laugh at Dean's witticisms. Dean was always guarding his tongue at Virginia Tech; trying to not slip up and let his naïve friends know that the things that their nightmares were made of actually existed.

And sure, Dean was Dad's good son; the perfect soldier. But he still had hopes and dreams. He had talents and Dean knew that he could make it in the real "normal" world that he read about in Sam's books when said owner of the books was asleep. He could do, and he could give Sam the life he so desperately wanted.

…But Sam didn't want that life anymore. Sam had settled into the hunter's life, still quietly brooding, but accepting nonetheless. Sam said that he never wanted to try and live a normal life with his powers, but trying and doing were two different things. Dean was sure that Sam could make a go at a normal life and succeed. All Sam had to do was try.

Dean remembered the scene in Sam's room from earlier: a water bottle floating in mid-air, Sam not even realizing he was doing it. A hunter's life meant that Sam could do those types of things and he would not be feared because he could do it. People would respect his powers for what they are, not fear them. Sam had arranged his life around these powers of his and Dean was wondering how many things Sam did with his telekinesis and didn't even realize it.

Sam couldn't have a normal life… he was used to his powers and to a certain extent, Dean was sure that Sam enjoyed having his telekinesis. He hadn't see what a true premonition could do to his little brother and, although Dean would never admit this out loud, Caleb was right about the empathy: with no major crowds around, less chances of Sam being overwhelmed to the point of passing out.

And if Dean was true to himself, he missed lighting things on fire. He missed being able to take his aggression out on whatever he was hunting. He missed Sam's quick smile and the puppy-dog eyes that could get anybody to do anything that he needed them to do.

Dean sighed when he realized that the pros and cons came out to be the same. "Dammit."

* * *

When Dean re-entered the house, he got a knowing look from Missouri, a glare from Caleb who was sitting at the kitchen table, sharpening some of Missouri's knives for her, and a soft smile from his younger brother, who left his room and was now seated on the couch with a heavy book on his lap. Dean blinked at the soft smile. "Sammy?" 

"I had a premonition." Sam said and Caleb put down the knife.

"Sam?" Caleb asked, warily. "Do we have something we need to hunt down and kill?"

Sam shook his head. "No, Caleb. Dean is going to make the decision that's best for him."

"What do I decide, Sammy?"

Sam grinned and Dean remembered that grin as more or less translating into "I know something you don't know". "Why, Dean, the future is no fun if everybody knows what's going to happen—destiny is still being written by this moment. What I saw in my vision may not necessarily come true. Even a psychic needs some element of surprise in everyday life."

"What are the chances of your vision being wrong?"

Caleb outright laughed. "Dean, in the past two years, your brother has never been wrong. Circumstances of the vision have changed, such as your dad and Sam arriving on time to stop something horrible from happening, but technically, the visions he has come true."

Dean looked at Missouri. "Dean, honey, Caleb's right. Sam's visions are one-hundred percent accurate." Something flashed out of the corner of Missouri's eye. "Sam Winchester! Now what did I say about using telekinesis to put your dirty dishes in the sink? Ain't nothing wrong with your legs."

Sam sheepishly grinned at Missouri. "Sorry about that. And no, Dean, I'm not going to tell you what you decided in my vision. Our lives are worth too much for you to take the easy way out."

"But, Sammy," Dean was not whining, thank you very much, "If your visions are always accurate, then you telling me isn't going to change the future."

"But it will change how you look at the future. You trust me not to lie to you, but if I do, how will you know? If I tell you that you decide to stay with me, then a small suspicion of doubt will always remain that I made you stay with me."

"Sam's right, honey. You gotta let the future run its course." Missouri said softly.

"What good is having a brother who can see the future if he doesn't share what he knows?" Dean asked, a small grin tugging at his lips to let them know he was joking.

Sam offered a mysterious smile in return.

* * *

The next day, Dean woke up to the sound of Caleb banging on his door. "Dean, get up! Jim's here and so is Bobby." 

Dean yelled back something unflattering about Caleb's heritage before rolling over and going back to sleep. He had been pondering the pros and cons of hunting last night and didn't get to sleep until well after one in the morning. Unfortunately, Dean had nothing to show for the long night of thinking except bags under his eyes.

Dean swore that he only closed his eyes for a moment when he heard his brother knocking on the door. "Dean, seriously, it's time to get up. We let you get another two hours of sleep. It's going on eleven and the service starts at one."

"Sammy…"

Sam opened the locked door as if it were nothing. "Dean, I know you don't want to deal with Dad's death, but please, come down and at least say 'hello' and 'thank you for coming' to everyone. Then you can come back up here and sleep the rest of the day away."

Dean looked at his little brother. "That door was locked. How did you get in?"

"Dude, seriously, remember all of the hunts I went on with you and Dad? Who always picked the locks?"

Dean nodded to acknowledge the truth behind that statement. "I'll make you a deal, Sam. I'll get up, take a shower, and go and mingle until one. When one comes around, I can come back up here and sleep the rest of the day away." Dean offered his hand to Sam to shake on it.

Sam tilted his head, looked at his brother, decided that Dean was being honest, and shook.

* * *

As promised, Dean took a shower and was mingling with the guests in Missouri's backyard. He kept an eye on his younger brother, however, noticing that Sam was starting to pale a bit and that lines were starting to form around his eyes. Sam was surrounded by Jim, Caleb, and many other people that Dean knew well from his years as a hunter. Sam looked comfortable with these people, empathy issues not withstanding. Dean would admit that he missed the people that Sam was talking to: hunting is a lonely job, but there are others out there who always are willing to share information. Dean grinned as he remembered the many times that his father had called someone for help or that someone had called John. Real life wasn't like hunting: sure, you made friends, but in hunting, those friends could be the difference between life and death. Dean knew for a fact that Joshua had a scar on his arm from when he protected Sam from being thrown out of a window by a pissed-off poltergeist. Dean knew that John had a long, thin cut on his abdomen from where he had knocked Jim out of the way of a skin walker with exceptionally pointy nails. 

For the first time ever, Dean felt alone when he was surrounded by a group of hunters. John had always made sure that Dean had stood out, after all Dean was John's protégé, the one to take over the family business when John was dead and burned. Dean was a good hunter and John would regale anyone who would listen with tales of the hunts the two of them had gone on. Dean kept hearing snippets of conversation about his late father; how wonderful of a hunter he was, how well he trained his boys.

Dean sighed as he looked at all of the people out there. At one time, he thought that the picket-fence dream was absurd and he ridiculed Sam for having such dreams. But Dean had had the picket-fence life at college and while mechanical engineering was interesting, it was at the same time boring as hell. Hunting was always a new challenge and new research. He could go out there and really take out his aggressions on things. When a job was done, he could leave. He didn't have to come in the next day to the same boring office.

And a normal life didn't have Sammy, his annoying as hell little brother. Sam always kept Dean on his toes and they worked so well together. And now, with Sam being psychic boy, jobs would be even more interesting. Sam was great at the research and nobody could light something on fire faster than Dean. And if Dean were to be honest with himself, the four years at Virginia Tech, Dean was worried about Sam. Sam got into serious trouble whenever Dean wasn't there to pull his ass out of the fire.

John had been a hunter, but he also reared them. He did the best he could. And Dean had never felt more comfortable in his own skin as he did when Sam handed him a gun before they went to find their father.

For the first time, Dean felt himself missing his father. Sam excused himself from the group and walked over to Dean.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked, discretely offering Sam his arm.

Sam tilted his head and smiled at something. Dean lowered his arm and Sam smiled a little more. "You miss Dad. Seeing all of those people who loved him, love _us_. Reminds you of the good parts of hunting, doesn't it? Reminds you that even though we were alone, at the same time, we were a family. A messed up one, but still a family."

"Your empathy must be screwed up, little brother."

Sam shook his head. "We'll go with that."

"Thanks." Dean paused, "Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"We'll synch tomorrow, okay?"

Sam ducked his head so that Dean couldn't see the grin that blossomed across his face. "Welcome home, Dean."


	3. Turn Off Your Light

Title: Turn Off Your Light  
Series: Can I Call in Dead?  
Author: Moonfairyhime  
Rating: T  
Characters: Sam, Dean, and two OD (original demons)  
Disclaimer: I don't own the lovely Winchester boys.  
Summary: After a vision, Sam and Dean go off for their first true hunt since Dean rejoined Sam. However, not all is what it appears to be.  
Notes: This is an AU fic, in which Dean leaves for school and Sam is left with John. However, Sam has developed his "gifts" a few years earlier. Please keep in mind that this is not the normal Sam you're used to—this is a bitter Sam who is completely resigned to his fate. Sam is eighteen and Dean is twenty-two. If you want get a good mental image of how Nyx is, I kind of picture him as Michael Jackson. Now, isn't he a lot scarier? Many hugs and kisses to my wonderful beta lucywiggin. This is the last part to this little arc; however, I don't think I'm done with the series yet. Title taken from Busted's song "Falling for You".

* * *

Dean closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. He felt a gentle probing in the back of his mind before it was gone. He frowned at the feeling; the probing wasn't harsh or cold, instead it felt like a familiar song he just couldn't remember all of the words to sing along with. 

"You can open your eyes, Dean." Missouri said, a smile on her face.

Dean blinked and looked as his younger brother. Sam was still in meditation, but a happy grin adorned his brother's face. "That's all?"

"Your end is done. Sam's just closing up the holes in his walls that John's death left. He should be back with us in about ten minutes. How about you, Dean? Feel any different?" Missouri asked, handing him a glass of water.

"Not really… I felt something… familiar at the back of my mind for a moment, but then it was gone."

"Then Sam did his job right. Did you think it was going to hurt?" At Dean's slightly guilty look, Missouri continued on. "Honey, I trained Sam, and I should hope he would be able to make a mental connection with his own brother. It ain't supposed to hurt the person who willingly agrees to synch with the psychic. Now if it had hurt you, well, then you and your brother would have been in trouble."

Sam snapped out of the trance with a gasp. Missouri and Dean both looked at him worriedly.

"Sam?" Missouri asked.

"Something... Tried to connect with me when I was finishing up patching the holes that Dad left. It felt familiar, but I just can't place it."

Missouri looked worried. "Did you get all the holes patched?"

"Yeah, I did… It didn't want _into_ my mind. It more or less just wanted my attention." Sam looked confused.

"You okay, little brother?" Dean looked worried. He didn't quite understand every detail about the situation, but he knew enough.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's gone…" Sam's voice trailed off and his face became empty.

"Sammy?" Dean asked.

Sam's only response was a short gasp of pain before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed boneless to the floor. Dean shook Sam briefly, frowning when he didn't respond, before looking at Missouri with an "I don't know what just happened but I better find out _now_" expression.

Missouri frowned as she looked at the unconscious hunter. "Sam had a vision, Dean. A bad one, by the looks of it."

"Thought you had sh—stuff around here to make those not bother him. Do they always make him fai—collapse?"

"Only in his bedroom do I have wards up to prevent visions from occurring. And no, they don't always make your brother collapse. In fact, he's been doing better with his visions. They normally happen at night, that's why I have the wards up. A vision during the day… It's not odd, not for your brother… but to make him collapse…. I just don't like it." Missouri looked puzzled.

* * *

When Sam woke up two hours later, Dean was seated in a chair next to him. Sam knew he shouldn't be surprised, but still… Big brother was back. "Dean?" 

"Sam, what happened? Missouri told me you had a vision…"

Sam looked confused for a moment before he shook his head. "I did. I saw an old farmhouse… Looked like it was haunted by something."

"Know where it was?"

Sam hid a grin at how battle-ready his brother sounded and felt. "Yeah… Winter Crossing, Wyoming."

Dean frowned. "That's convenient."

Sam looked out the window, his eyes distant. "Too convenient…"

Dean snapped his fingers to get Sam's attention. "You feeling okay, Sammy?"

Sam grinned at Dean. "Feeling better. The holes that Dad left are gone and I feel… rested, which means that the link really did do its job. We're synched now, big brother."

"So, if I were to go downstairs, you could find the exact place I'm at?"

"It's not that exact of a science, I would know you're downstairs, and since I know Missouri's house, I could probably tell you what room, but I'd get a fix on your emotions and follow that lead. I'd be like a dog following a scent. Your emotions are sharper in my mind, making it easier for me to find you."

Dean nodded and stood up. "So everything is fine? Good, I'm going to see what's for dinner. You were out for a while, Sam."

"Hey, Dean?" At Dean's raised eyebrow, Sam smiled. "Thanks, big brother."

Dean made a face at Sam, but he walked away from Sam feeling pleasantly surprised.

* * *

The next day, Sam and Dean thanked Missouri for allowing them to stay with her. Missouri shook her head at the younger Winchester at his many words of thanks, reminding him that he and Dean were always welcome in her home. As Sam started the Impala up, Sam dropped his mental walls for just a moment and Missouri was given a rare glimpse into the soul of the young psychic. She heard his confused thoughts about this case and the quiet longing for John, but at the same time, Missouri felt the hope and content that she knew Dean had instilled in his little brother. Missouri watched as the boys drove down the street with a sigh. She was glad that the boy she loved like a son (Missouri would deny to anyone who asked that she was starting to become fond of Dean) was well on his way to repairing the holes in his soul that John's death left.

* * *

As Sam drove, Dean played the role of navigator. John Winchester had made sure that both of his sons could use a map effectively, but the job of navigator used to fall on Sam. Dean was always too busy learning whatever he could about hunting, Sam had just wanted to read, and even a map was better than nothing. When Dean left for school, the job of navigator fell solely upon Sam's shoulders. Considering the fact that Dean hadn't been on a "road trip" in four years, Sam could forgive him for telling Sam to get off at the wrong exit.

"You know where the house is, but you don't know how to get there? What happened to the lovely sense of direction that you had when Dad was in trouble?" Dean's voice was purposely light.

"I had a clear link to Dad after the vision. I told you before I'm not a bloodhound, but when Dad was in trouble, I could have found him _anywhere_. The visions and the empathy work in tandem. If Nyx had stuck him in the middle of the busiest part of China, I could have found him. If you were in danger in Winter Crossing, I could find you without a problem. Visions tell me where to go, not how to get there."

Dean finally decided to ask Sam the question that had been bothering him for a while. "How do you know Nyx?"

"Nyx met us when I first came into my powers. He claimed he could make me better, claims that I still have so much more I could learn, more that I can do."

"No offense, Sammy, but you're pretty damn effective the way you are."

"That's how Dad felt about the situation."

Dean stared out the window for a minute. "How did you and Dad stop him the first time?"

"It was… complicated," Sam said after a long pause, "And I'm not quite sure how to explain it to you without you getting pissed off at me or Dad."

"Dad used you as bait."

Sam winced at Dean's flat tone. "Yeah. I was in the middle of an unclosed Devil's Trap and when Nyx stepped into it, trying to get closer to an "unconscious" me, Dad closed the circle and I got out as quickly as possible. Then we just did an exorcism. We weren't sure if it was going to work or not, but when Dad said 'amen', Nyx was gone so we figured it work. Evidentially, we were wrong."

* * *

Winter Crossing looked like every town Dean had visited in his childhood. It had seven churches, four bars, a police station, a library, and about twenty people out milling about for no real reason than that there simply wasn't anything better to do with their time. Sam grinned at the four-story library and for a moment, Dean saw the man that Sam could have been: a student at Stanford, buried head deep into books on subjects that Dean could only hope to comprehend. Whereas Dean and John had a certain intelligence when it came to hands-on things (the things that Dean and John could build out of a pile of junk amazed Sam to no end), but Sam had an intelligence that came from memorizing facts and applying them in ways that made sense only in his head. Sam turned his head to Dean and raised an eyebrow and Dean shrugged in response. Sam rolled his eyes and walked away from the library.

"What's up, Sam?" Dean asked.

Sam absentmindedly rubbed at his temples as a group of little children passed, prattling rather loudly. "Damn."

Dean frowned at the kids and grabbed his little brother. "Let's get you out of here. We'll figure out a plan somewhere where little brats aren't around."

Sam closed his eyes, knowing that Dean would not let anything happen to him. "It isn't their fault… Little kids are more open with their emotions. They're loud and vibrant. Adults are more closed-off, tight-lipped."

"That's good to know in the future, Sam. If I ever need you to quit cold turkey, I'll throw you in a room with suit wearing accountants."

A sudden scream made both brothers turn around and look. On the top of the library was a young woman around Sam's age standing close to the edge. An older woman darted out from the crowd that began to form around the library. "Jenny, don't jump!"

Jenny tilted her head, made what Dean could swear was direct eye contact with Sam, before taking a step off the building.

As her head hit the pavement, Sam's eyes closed and he collapsed.

* * *

"I'm fine," Sam assured the paramedics. The one paramedic frowned at Sam and looked at Dean.

Dean stood off to the side. "I'll keep an eye on him. It anything happens, I'll take him to the ER. Sammy just can't stand the sight of blood."

The other paramedic nodded and Dean watched as his brother got out of the ambulance. The brothers watched as the ambulance drove off.

"What happened, Sam?"

Sam's face was puzzled. "I felt everything she felt… I felt her _die_. It's happened before, that's why I can't go to the hospital, but… She felt empty before hitting the sidewalk. It didn't feel like a human had just ended her life. I wanted to save her, but the sheer feeling of emptiness just… it overwhelmed me. I've never felt _anything_ like that."

Dean looked as upset as Sam but for completely different reasons. "Well, Sam, while the paramedics were checking you out, I talked to the old woman who yelled out to Jenny. Turns out she was living at Redder's House. There's been some strange things happening there. Sounds like your standard poltergeist to me, but I could be wrong."

Sam only offered a rueful smile. "Let's go check it out. Oh, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam offered his brother a small grin. "Catch."

Dean caught the object and looked down: keys to the Impala. "Sam?"

Sam opened the passenger side door. "The keys are yours. Go buy yourself an atrocious keychain of some naked woman."

Dean grinned at the keys and slid into the Impala. "You know what this means."

Sam's eyes widened as he realized what he had just surrendered himself to as Dean turned on the radio and found a classic rock station in three seconds flat. "Shit."

But Sam's words lacked any heat as he felt the surprised happiness he felt radiating off his brother.

* * *

Dean was sure that the Redder's House was lovely… if they had arrived twenty years sooner. The old Victorian house had large areas of ivory paint missing from it, no front door, and was missing glass in most if its windows. Dean concluded that it looked like almost of all the haunted houses from his childhood. 

"A nice easy hunt to get back into the swing of things, Sam?" Dean asked his younger brother with a grin.

"I hope so," Sam said, gazing at the house like it had offended him in a past life.

"You picking something up, Miss Cleo?"

"My premonitions and then that thing with Jenny…" Sam said, trailing off.

"Sammy…"

"I only had flashes of what was going to happen. Normally, I'll see an entire scene."

Dean frowned. "Are actual scenes as painful as the flashes?"

"What do you mean?" Sam looked genuinely confused.

"Sam, you fainted like a girl after your vision. I've never seen anything knock you on your ass as fast as it did."

"It's the price of power. Dad once asked Missouri that same question. He wanted to know why my visions hurt me while everything else didn't affect me. She explained it as the price of knowing the future—I'm getting a direct vision of something no human is supposed to see. Everything has a cost and I'm not exempt from paying it." Sam looked perplexed though. "It's been a while since I passed out, though. Something about this is just off…"

Dean blinked. "Well, this entire situation just sucks."

The dead leaves hanging from the trees blew in the wind and Sam focused all of his attention on the house in front of him. Dean blinked at the serious look on his little brother's face. "Sammy?"

"Something isn't right," Sam said, starting at the house.

"Do you have any idea as to what that may be?"

Sam started to walk towards the house, still frowning. "Whatever it is, it's familiar. I _know_ this…"

Dean frowned and followed Sam closer to the house. "Sammy, I know I'm rusty, but I don't like this. This doesn't feel right, even for a hunt." Sam was about to put one foot on the steps when Dean grabbed his arm and tugged him backwards. "No way, psychic boy. Never thought I'd say this before, but we're doing research before we even set foot on the steps."

Sam tilted his head but allowed Dean to pull him towards the Impala. "Just not the library, Dean. Drop me off a motel… I'll do research from the motel room."

* * *

Dean was sure that, after spending four years in college, he had gotten better at researching the supernatural. He was very annoyed to find that unlike colleges with their easy to use scholarly journals, finding information out about things of the supernatural nature was still as hard as he remembered it to be.

And it didn't help if the librarian looked at you like you were Satan. The librarian really didn't take too kindly to out-of-towners asking about the town's newly revealed dark secret.

Dean stood up from the computer and the librarian ran over to check on it as soon as Dean had vacated the seat. She gave him one last glare as Dean grabbed his stack of papers and quickly walked out of the library. He hoped that Sam had more luck finding information out than he had.

* * *

"Okay, so Redder's House was built in 1904. Joseph and Margaret Redder were the initial owners of the house. When Margaret died in 1921, the house was passed along to their only child, Annabeth Redder. Annabeth died in 1945—with no children or a husband—and the house sat empty until 1978 when the community tried to fix it up and make it a shelter for abused women," Dean flipped the page of the print out he was reading as Sam stared moodily out the window, "They gave up the project in 1979 due to insufficient funding. Since then, Redder's House is a popular place for teenagers to hang out and rebel against society. Some try to live there, like Jenny…"

"But this is the first time anyone has ever died because of Redder's House." Sam said, quietly filling in opening.

"Right," Dean frowned, "How did you know that? Sixth sense kicking in?"

"No, the research I did from here pretty much confirmed what you said." Sam said, staring out the window again. "I don't get this. Why did I get a premonition of a seemingly innocent house?"

* * *

Dean and Sam stood and stared at Redder's House as the sun slowly began to set.

"You sure you want to go in, Sam?"

"There isn't anyone in there, Dean. My empathy won't bug me." Sam said as he walked up the steps. Sam pushed open the door with his telekinesis and Dean walked in first. Sam frowned; he had felt something ping at his mind when he walked through the door, but whatever it was, he just couldn't quite figure out.

The house was covered in dust. Most of the furniture had been destroyed through the ages. Sam absently pushed all of the broken beer bottle debris out of the way and Dean grinned. Sam's head suddenly snapped to the staircase on the other side of the room.

"Sammy?"

"Who's there?"

A pale feminine figure appeared in front of the staircase and bowed to Sam. "Hello, precious."

Sam took three steps back and Dean put himself between the figure and his brother. Sam shook his head. "No. You're dead. When we killed Nyx, Dad and I banished your sorry ass, Irore."

Dean flexed his hand and glared and Irore. "Seems your enemies have an issue staying dead, Sammy."

Irore turned her attention to Dean. "You must be big brother. You were absent the last time we met with precious."

The use of the pronoun 'we' did not escape Sam's attention. "Nyx is here, isn't he? You two are never far from one another."

Irore gave Sam an eerie smile. "Unlike you, precious, I know when I should give up the fight. Nyx is powerful. Not as powerful as the demon who killed your mother, precious, but still very powerful. Swearing loyalty to him made sense and if you had any, you would let him train you. You could take down that demon you swore revenge on, precious! You and Nyx would be unstoppable!"

"Sammy isn't buying what you're selling. And stop calling him 'precious'. It's scary as hell." Dean grabbed his brother by the arm and started to leave. Dean was suddenly aware of the fact that Sam wasn't moving. When Dean turned to find out why, he saw that Nyx had appeared right next to his little brother. "Go away. I have no problem killing you too."

Nyx titled his head at Dean, watching as Dean once again, tugged Sam to stand behind him. "Oh, Dean, how silly you are, but I will admit the big brother bravado is a nice touch. Precious belongs to us more than he does you. We'll train him. Take him off your hands… You can go back to the normal life you had before he walked back into it. You have my word, Dean, that no demon shall ever harm you."

"Two words for you: go away." Dean said, reaching for the blessed blade he kept in his boot. He had enough of this shit.

Nyx's face was no longer jovial. It appeared downright dangerous. "If you reach for that knife, it will be the last thing you do."

Irore stood next to Nyx. "I'll take the older, Nyx. He looks to be… fun."

Nyx grinned at the shorter demon. "Have fun, Irore, just don't kill him."

Sam shook his head and pushed Dean away from him. "Don't hurt him, please."

Nyx smiled softly at Sam. "Oh, precious… If you come with us, we promise not to hurt him."

Dean grabbed Sam's arm. "If you even consider that deal, Sammy, I'll kill you myself."

"Oh, big brother has some bark… wonder if you have any bite as well." Irore grinned as she summoned a knife and threw it at Dean. Dean ducked and rolled, but unfortunately for both him and Sam, he rolled away from his little brother. Dean turned towards his brother just in time to see Nyx grab him around the throat. Irore moved to block his view. "See, big brother, precious doesn't block Nyx the way he did you in the beginning. The telekinesis doesn't even faze Nyx."

The pause Dean took to process this was all Irore needed to hit him over the head with a poker from the fire place. Sam watched as his older brother dropped to the floor. The pause Dean took to process this was all Irore needed to hit him over the head with a poker from the fire place. Sam watched as his older brother dropped to the floor. Before Sam could even attempt to help Dean, Nyx thew him into the same wall. As Sam slowly slid down it, he lost his battle for consciousness.

* * *

Sam groaned as he woke up. He tried to stretch, but quickly found that his hands were cuffed together as well as his legs. He was leaning against a wall in a small dark room. Sam guessed, looking at all of the empty jars along the shelves, that this was once used as a root cellar, but like everything else in the house, it was covered with a dust that hadn't been disturbed for a half a century. Sam shivered involuntarily, uncomfortable with how empty and weird the room felt. He couldn't put a finger on why the room seemed so off. It felt like no one had stepped foot in the room for ages. Sam heard footsteps coming towards him and he hoped that it was Dean. Sam frowned suddenly, realizing two things: a) Sam couldn't feel Dean at all (which, to be honest, Sam wasn't that worried about… synched or not, Sam could only get a good feel on someone sans premonition if they were in a fifteen foot radius, without there being many other people around… besides, Dean could take care of himself) and b) whatever was coming closer to Sam had a decidedly empty feeling to it.

As Nyx entered the room, Sam cursed very colorfully in four different languages.

Nyx clapped delightedly. "Very nice, precious! One of those languages was Ancient Greek. You would have done so well in college, precious. You would have been the perfect language student."

Sam called Nyx something in Latin that just doesn't have a translation to do it justice. "Drop dead, Nyx."

"Oh, you and your dear father tried that once. Didn't work, did it?" Nyx made a great show of displaying himself to Sam.

Sam glowered at Nyx and the cuffs around his legs shot off towards Nyx. Nyx shook his head as he stopped the cuffs from hitting him in the nose. Sam broke the screws in the cuffs around his hands and he glared at Nyx as he stood up. "Rot in hell."

Nyx grinned at Sam. "How does it feel, precious, to know that you manipulated your brother into coming with you?"

Sam shook his head. "No, you're wrong. Dean came with me because he wanted to."

"Please, precious… Think about this for a moment. Why would Dean choose to go on a "road trip" with an emotionally stunted _freak_ of a little brother? I mean, Dean, he got away from the life you hated. Admit it, precious, you were jealous of Dean. Dean got the life you wanted, the life you thought he didn't want. He got the friends, the education, everything you ever wanted but were denied. You went to get him because you were jealous that big brother could live without his little brother. You, precious, you didn't know a .45 from an AK-47 without big brother Dean around. You're worthless without him. So you took him away from the life you desired. You always knew that you, precious, were the one chink in an otherwise unbreakable suit of armor. You could probably ask him to kill himself and he would do it with a smile, all because you asked, precious." An invisible force slammed into the demon, but Nyx only grinned as he continued his assault. "Your father, may Satan bless his soul, was stuck with you and he knew it. He used you, precious, used you because you weren't Dean. Sure, you have nifty little parlor tricks, but in the end, that's all they are. Parlor tricks. Dean? He's the real hunter of the family. The dedicated one. The one your father was so proud of. You? You were the second string and he had to live with you because you were the only thing he had left. Trained you so that you wouldn't become a danger to anyone. You, precious, are worthless to everyone: the father who you would have forsaken in a heartbeat and the brother who never could forsake you."

Sam shook his head, his voice bitter. "No, you're lying. Demons always lie."

Nyx carefully titled Sam's chin up. "Oh, precious, unlike your family, I could never lie to you. I need you, precious. If you were to disappear, precious, Dean would go right back to his normal life and never think about a hunter's life again."

The empty glass jars on the shelves all shattered and Nyx smiled at Sam. "Very impressive, precious."

Sam glared at Nyx and all of the shreds of glass began to levitate around Nyx. The demon tsk'ed. "Now, precious, if you keep misbehaving, something bad may happen to your brother."

The shards dropped to the ground and Sam paled as he slid down the wall. He had forgotten about Dean. How could he have forgotten about his older brother? Sam was used to hunting solo… He'd been doing it for over a year, but to forget about Dean like that… "Leave him alone, Nyx. It's me you want."

Nyx knelt down in front of Sam. "Silly, silly precious. Everyone knows that the best way to get to a Winchester is to kill another one. Now, I killed you father and I really don't want to kill your brother, but precious… It's time to face the facts. You aren't human. You never were. How could such a creature be human? You were marked from the moment you were conceived. Sure, John and Mary Winchester were you parents, but only in your conception. The blood that runs through those veins? You and I both know, precious, that you aren't human. After all, how do you think demons are created? Sure, a few sell their souls to Satan for power, but others… They find children with power; children like you and make sure that nothing about your life will be normal. So that they can give you the life that will force you to sell your soul and your power to something to save your sorry ass. At the tender age of six months, you were baptized in your mother's blood, cementing your future and erasing any hopes you had of enjoying a normal life. Now, precious, you have a decision… Try to continue living this lie you call a life, always wondering if what I told you is truth, always looking over your shoulder, making sure that you haven't become the prey. Or, precious, choose me. Choose a life of freedom, of power. I'll train you. You'll be unstoppable. What say you?"

"What about my brother?" Sam asked, staring at a spot in the wall above Nyx's head.

"You don't have a brother, precious."

"What about Dean?" At Nyx's look, Sam elaborated. "If I come with you, let you train me… Do you promise that nothing will hurt Dean?"

"Precious, I swear that no harm will come to Dean Winchester. In fact, precious, he'll have no recollection of you ever coming and getting him from college. It'll just be another day for you brother."

Sam hung his head.

* * *

Irore grinned as Dean woke up. Her grin did not falter as Dean realized he was chained to the wall and began to fight against the restraints. She politely coughed to get his attention. "Hello, big brother."

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked, glaring at the demon.

"What? You don't want to talk about something else? Worrying about precious will cause you to get grey hair earlier. You know, big brother, you could let precious be… Let us have him and you can go back to Virginia Tech and enjoy a peaceful life."

Dean shook his head. "I left Sammy once. I'm not doing it again."

"Precious seemed to have done well without you, though. Got along with your father well enough. Precious even developed some gifts for hunting." Irore grinned as she walked towards Dean. "You know, big brother, I wonder why Sam never tried to contact you while you were in school. I bet you tried to get in contact with him many times and yet, nothing ever became of it. How many times did you call or send a letter? Hmm? After all, you Winchesters still have a post office box in Lawrence and I know your father was big on checking in there every four months or so…"

Dean glared at Irore as he continued to struggle with the handcuffs. "Shut up, bitch."

"You know, Nyx is talking to precious right now… By the time he's done with precious, you won't have a baby brother anymore. He'll have joined us. Nyx is filling precious' head with all kinds of lies… You may as well walk away, big brother, because when Nyx is done, you'll be an only child with no ties left to the hunter's life."

Dean's eyes were cold. "Go to hell, bitch."

Irore titled her head. "I've been there, big brother. It's a very interesting place. I'm sure your father is enjoying it as well."

* * *

Nyx smiled. He could all but smell how close he was to break precious. "Dear precious, what can I do to help you?"

Sam looked up at Nyx and smiled softly. He stood and looked Nyx straight in the eyes. "You truly want to help me?"

"Of course, precious." Nyx could feel how close Sam was to joining him.

"Then leave me and my brother alone!" Sam threw everything he had into one large telekinetic push. Nyx stumbled back from the sheer onslaught of power from the young hunter. He knew that Sam was powerful, but the raw power the boy hid inside was astonishing to the demon.

Nyx glared at the young hunter. "You will regret that, precious. Your brother will suffer because of your foolishness."

"If Dean dies, Nyx, you won't have to worry about me joining or not. I don't care if I have to drag you down myself. You take Dean from me and you will die." The fact that Sam leaned against the wall, heaving great gulps of air into his lungs as he tried to fight off a huge-ass migraine only took a little from the threat he issued Nyx. Sam's eyes flashed, even as his legs gave out. "And another thing, what the hell? Did you think lying to me would make me join you? If I wasn't John Winchester's son, I would have been dead the moment I got my abilities—Dad would not have let me live a lie like that. I know that people can be gifted without being evil. I even know a few people like that. I know I'm my father's son. I am not the spawn of whatever you were trying to pass me off as."

* * *

Irore smiled as she tasted the residue in the air from a large psychic discharge. "Hmm, seems precious is more powerful than Nyx thought…"

Dean looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Relax, big brother. Precious is still alive. Looks like he's more powerful than Nyx and I both thought…" Irore looked thoughtful, still attempting to figure out how strong Sam's psychic discharge was. "I'm not sure if I want to mess with this. I signed up to help Nyx, not to get my ass sent back again."

Dean stared at Irore. "What?"

Irore shrugged. "I'm a demon. I serve myself. I got sent to hell because of Nyx once and I don't want to risk getting sent back again."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Loyalty isn't part of your personality description, is it?"

"Only to myself, big brother." Irore said. She briefly looked around before shrugging. "Oh well. It was fun while it lasted. Nyx's plan isn't going to work the way he thinks it is."

Dean only stared as she disappeared from sight.

* * *

"You know another thing that pisses me off, Nyx?" Sam seemed to be gaining more strength vocally even as his knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor. "It really, really pisses me off when people play with my head without asking. And it really pisses me off when you kill an innocent person just to try and get my attention."

Nyx was staring at Sam and a slow smile appeared. "Such power you possess, precious. No wonder He marked you when you were so young. It will be so wonderful when I bind your gifts to me."

The color drained out of Sam's face. "What do you mean? You can't do that!"

"Oh, precious, I can." A bowl of something appeared in one of Nyx's hands and a dagger appeared in the other. "You see, this is a blood ritual. I need your blood, the blood of your father, and my blood to complete it. Now, precious, I know you're a curious boy and would love to know more about what is in your past and destined for your future, but I don't trust Irore any more than I would trust any other demon. So…"

Sam paused, content for a moment to know that Nyx had just slipped and called John his father. Sam's bravado earlier had just been that—a false front that Sam created on a prayer and a hope. Sam glared at Nyx. "Leave me alone."

"But, precious, you're so weak. So ready to have your gifts be controlled by me. Cheer up, precious; your gifts will still be yours. You just won't be able to use any of them without me knowing or allowing you to do it. Especially that lovely telekinesis of yours. That's a rare and powerful gift you have, precious. I can't wait to use its full power to my advantage." Sam tried to stand up, but Nyx moved faster. Sam found himself pinned to the wall with Nyx have a vice-like gripe around his wrist. "Now, precious, I only need a few drops of blood for this to work…"

"You only need a few drops of blood from me but you kill my father? What the hell?!"

Nyx smiled benevolently. "Oh, well, I knew he wouldn't be around much longer, even if I didn't kill him, so I just wanted to make sure that I had enough to make the ritual work. Besides, you're the important one, not him."

Sam managed to stay quiet when Nyx yanked his arm further than it actually extended. He stayed silent when a bowl was positioned under his right wrist, too exhausted from the telekinetic blast to do anything else but watch. When Nyx slit his wrist, Sam didn't even blink. When Nyx slit his own right arm, Sam just leaned helplessly against the wall and still did not say a word. When Nyx added John's blood to the mixture, well, if Sam's glare had any power, Nyx's head would have been orbiting Pluto and the rest of his body scatted between Earth and Pluto. However, when Nyx activated the spell and began to brutally enter Sam's mind, Sam didn't feel at all bitter or less manly for the scream that he let out.

* * *

Dean's heart froze when he heard Sam's scream. He struggled against the chains holding him to wall. Irore could have left one parting gift and loosened the cuffs for him. It was the least she owed him after knocking him out with a fire poker. Dean steadily tugged at the cuffs and frowned when the entire house went silent. "What the hell?!"

Dean took at deep breath just as the shit hit the fan. He looked around worriedly as everything began to shake. Dean felt the cuff around his wrist shatter. All of a sudden, everything was calm. Dean didn't even pause to consider what had just happened. He took off running towards where Sam's scream had originated. If Sam had died, Dean was going to resurrect his body just so he could kill him himself for being so stupid as to let Nyx take his life.

And if Nyx killed Sam, well, Dean was going to enjoy taking the demon apart piece by piece.

* * *

When Dean found Sam, his little brother was staring absented-mindedly at a splatter of black blood on the wall. "Looks a bit like a butterfly, doesn't it, Dean?"

Dean walked towards his bother and kneeled by his little brother. Dean was a little alarmed at the spaced-out on his brother's face and when someone's face was that pale, it was never a good sign. "Little brother? What happened here?"

"Nyx tried to tie my gift to him. Looks like I was a bit more powerful then he thought I was… am..." Sam paused in his answer and held up his wrist. "Look, Dean, I'm bleeding. Blood is such an interesting color…"

Dean didn't even hesitate as he ripped a relatively clean part of his shirt and started to bind Sam's wrist. "Sammy, I need you to talk to me here. What happened?"

"You just asked me that," Sam insisted as he watched Dean bind his wound, "Nyx tried to do a blood ritual. He wanted my gifts. He…"

Dean wasn't sure it was possible for Sam to turn even paler, but Sam liked going that extra mile and always doing the exact opposite of what most people expected. Who would have thought that Sam would manage to live without his big brother without killing their father? "Sammy?"

Sam swallowed and leaned completely against the wall, staring to put the pieces together as he came down from the high that came with using such a large amount of psychic power in a short time period. "Nyx tried to enter my mind by force. Evidentially, there's more power behind my gifts than Missouri and I ever thought. As soon as Nyx got past my walls, some part of my mind recognized him as a threat and forcibly threw him out. It was a defense mechanism, I think. I don't think I could ever access that much power again unless something similar happened again... at least I hope I can't." Sam seemed to completely focus on Nyx's blood stains on the wall. "Dean…. I blacked out for a moment and Nyx was splattered on the wall… "

"Woah, little brother. This is not your fault. Nyx deserved to die—just think of the way he killed Dad. Nyx deserved a worse way to die and you just did the world a huge favor for getting rid of him." Sam nodded and Dean spared his brother a small grin before he continued. "Now, little brother, how much of yourself went in to this little defense mechanism of yours?" When Sam turned away, Dean got his answer: too much. "All right, let's get you out of here. Then I say we burn this house down."

* * *

Dean watched as Sam struck a match by his hands, wondering just how long it had been since Sam used his hands to burn something down. As if sensing his brother's thoughts, Sam turned to Dean. "You know, it's been longer than I care to admit that I've used my hands to strike a match. I'd use my telekinesis, but I think I'm completely tapped out."

The two brothers watched as Sam dropped the match in the middle of the living room where Nyx and Irore surprised them before the two of them headed outside for a cathartic viewing of the burning of the Redder House.

* * *

Sam was leaning against his big brother as the two of them watched the Redder House burn to the ground. Dean frowned at how pale his little brother was in the firelight. He was sure that he stopped the bleeding on Sam's wrist. "Sam? You okay?"

"If you just called me 'Sam', I must be dying." Sam said.

Dean jostled his brother. "Cute, Sammy…"

"What, Dean? What do you want to ask me?" When Dean looked innocent, Sam frowned. "You feel nervous, Dean. Tense around _me_. There's something you want to know, so ask me before you make my headache worse."

"Something Irore told me is bothering me… Why didn't you try to contact me during those four years?"

Sam sighed softly. "Do we have to do this right now?"

"No, Sammy, we don't." Dean sighed, before he frowned as Sam made a move to sit up. "Sammy!"

"I'm fine, Dean. Why didn't I get in contact with you? I never got your address to visit you. When I picked you up when Dad… left… I had found your address in his journal. It was scribbled quickly on a back of one of the original journal entries and I had no clue what it was. It was only after I used MapQuest and saw how close it was to Virginia Tech that I realized it was your address." Sam caught the look Dean was giving him out of the corner of his eye. "What? I stayed far away from the original entries in the journal… When I used it, it was only to figure out what we were hunting at the time. After you left, Dad and I had a crash course in respect for each other. I left the personal part of his journal alone and Dad eventually gave me the Impala and let me be by myself for a while."

"Why would Dad try so hard to keep us apart?"

Sam smiled. "He was so proud of you, Dean. So proud that you got out of the hole he created. That you loved me enough to live four years by yourself just so that you could pull me out of the mess too. Dad loved the scholarships you earned on your own; that you could and would stand up for what you wanted and not let everyone walk all over you. Any time anyone asked what happened to you, you should have seen the smile on his face. He would tell them tales about you that would last for _hours_. I think that keeping me from learning that you were trying to contact me was his way of protecting you. He was letting you live the life you wanted, without ties to hunting. Dean, you can't deny the fact that if you and I had been in regular contact, the first time a call was an hour late or a letter a day late that you would have left school, trying to find us and make sure that everyone was okay. This was Dad's way of making sure that you were okay."

Dean didn't say anything after that and if Sam ignored the moisture in his brother's eyes, well, it was because they were good brothers to each other. After a few minutes, Sam quietly spoke. "What happened to Irore? Nyx said she would show up if something happened to him."

"Evidentially, she was afraid of you." At Sam's skeptical look, Dean elaborated. "She felt your first telekinetic… blast and decided she didn't want to tango with you and she disappeared."

Sam blinked and stared. He was used to weird supernatural happening around him, but a demon running just leaving because she was too lazy to deal with him was a new one. Sam caught Dean looking at him again. "What, Dean?"

"You're not going to go all emo on my ass right now, are you? 'Cause, man, I know Redder House is in the middle of nowhere, but I would like to get out of here soon before someone realizes a house is on fire. Besides, I don't have any marshmallows to roast." Dean stood up and Sam was proud that he didn't fall over without Dean supporting him.

Sam shrugged and held his arm out to Dean and grinned softly when Dean immediately grasped it and pulled Sam to his feet. Dean didn't let go until Sam nodded that his brief dizzy spell has faded. "Okay, psychic wonder, let's get you into the Impala. Of course, you know this means I'm driving."

Sam grinned good-naturedly. "Sure you can drive, but only if you get me the aspirin out of the trunk and stop feeling so happy about a chance to drive the Impala. She's only a car."

Dean paused from reaching into the trunk. "You called her a 'she'! Sammy, I'm so proud."

As Sam sat down in the passenger seat, he tried to ignore the headache that was demanding some attention and Dean's glee over not only getting to drive the Impala, but also to hear Sam call her a girl. Dean sat down in the driver's seat and handed Sam the requested medicine and a bottle of water before he started to drive away from Redder's House. "Seriously, Sammy, how are you?"

"All things considered? I'm good. I have a headache and I'm tired, but that's nothing a good, long sleep won't cure."

"And your… reserves?"

Sam had to give Dean credit for not cringing too horribly after saying that word. "After a good night's rest, or should I say a good day's rest, I should be able to function okay. I'll need to stay away from crowds for a while, though. Probably need to stay away from cities and the like for a week or so."

Dean nodded, taking all this into consideration. "All right then, little brother. Where to next?"

Sam shrugged as he closed his eyes and rested his head on the glass, for the first time in a while, feeling safe and something close to content. "Wherever you want to go, big brother."


End file.
